Heart's Façade, continued
by Sereto
Summary: Story of what happens 16 years after the events in the anime to the gang, their kids, and a few new faces. Yaoi, childabuse, psychobabble, mild AyakaAizawa bashing. THE FIC WAS ABANDONED. but now Tibus is looking after it.
1. Chapter 1

Heart's Façade

Chapter One: Hot and Cold

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"Please?"

"No!"

"Pretty please?"

"No!"

"Pretty pretty please?"

"For the last time, no! You still haven't repaid me for the last time! Or the time before that, or the time before that!" Seguchi Amai said firmly, the tone of her voice suggesting the topic was not up for debate. She raked a hand through her short, feathery platinum blonde hair and continued reading her book, knowing if she looked up she'd end up caving in.

"But it's just this one last time," Seguchi Tokui begged his twin sister, large golden-hazel eyes brimming with tears.

"That's what you said the last time! And the time before that! And the time before that!" Amai argued, though against her better judgement she tore her dark green eyes from her book and looked at Tokui. And immediately she knew she was lost. One look at her slight, sickly brother, and she couldn't help but give in to his every desire, strange as many of them were.

Amai removed her reading glasses and sighed, putting a bookmark in her book and putting it on her beside table. "All right. Fine. Just this once. But dammit, I hate it when you look so adorable..."

A faint smile tinged Tokui's pale pink lips as he expressed his gratitude. 'Thank you so much, Amai. You don't know how much this means to me. I'll make it up to you, I swear..."

"Maybe if you told me what it is you do when you run away after I distract Kaasan I'd be more happy to help," Amai pointed out.

"Someday soon. I promise," Tokui reassured her. He'd been telling her the same thing for close to four years now.

Amai stood up, smoothing her white blouse and making sure she looked presentable to confront her mother. Though usually cheerful and carefree, when Amai wanted to she could be every bit as forboding as her father, and was a formidable opponent when drawn into an arguement. The only person who could move Amai, who was usually so stubborn, was her brother.

And not only could Amai act like Seguchi Touma if she wanted to, but she looked so much like him that it was eerie. Many people said they'd never noticed how feminine NG's president was before they saw him stand next to his sixteen year old daughter, who had the same delicate features, the same neat platinum blonde hair, the same large and deceptively innocent deep green eyes, and even the same mannerisms as her father.

Tokui, on the other hand, looked nothing like his twin sister, or even his parents. Instead, everyone told him he resembled what his uncle had looked like at his age, only thinner and paler as childhood illness had left him as frail and delicate as he appeared. (Another thing that made him different from his father and sister, as both looked fragile but both were very strong and occasionally intimidating people.) His short hair was brilliant gold, and his eyes were the most unusual golden color, something that set him apart. And like his uncle, he felt this unique look was a curse rather than a blessing. But he was happy to be compared to the man, as he had idolized him almost his entire life.

But the phsyical attributes were where the similarities between Seguchi Tokui and his uncle, Yuki Eiri, ended, as Tokui had a personality all his own. He was a very quiet, shy, and timid boy, easilly intimidated by his elders. He was also very secretive, more secretive then he had to be. Even little details about him, like his favorite color (blue), his favorite food (vanilla Pocky), or his date of birth (August 23) were like closely guarded secrets to the boy, and many of them not even his sister knew. He was also known to disappear to places unknown for hours at a time, and the mere fact he was leaving had be kept confidential.

If people were to look at them, no one would even think they were siblings, let alone twins, as they were so different in their personalities and their appearences. They even had different birthdates (Amai was born on August 22 at 11:57 PM and Tokui was born on August 23 at 12:04 AM) and were born under different astrological signs (Amai was a Leo and Tokui was a Virgo).

Amai put her hand on the gold-toned doorknob to her bedroom door. Her bedroom was very large and had a botanical theme, with mint green walls, a dark green plush carpet, and a green vine border across the top of the walls and surrounding the door. Her bed was queen sized and had a satin bedspread with a jungle of hunter green leaves covering it, and her bedside table and bookcase were both white but painted with the same green leaves as the border of her room. She also had a large TV, a rather extensive collection of DVDs, and a stereo with at least a hundred CDs. The centerpiece of her room, however, was the large picture window with it's green plush seating and plants hanging above it that overlooked the house's huge backyard.

Another difference between the twins was that while Amai's room was large, friendly, and colorful, Tokui's room was what Amai liked to call "the closet". Saying it was a closet was grossly innacurate, however, as it was actually a converted laundry room, downstairs on the main floor and tucked as far back from the rest of the house as possible. Tokui, being obsessive about his privacy, had turned down all of the four other bedrooms upstairs and insisted on this room, causing the laundry room to be relocated to the basement. His room was painted gray-blue, there was no carpet, and only a single dark blue throwrug over the cement floor. His bed was twin sized, and only had a simple light blue blanket. He also had a bookshelf, mostly covered with his uncle's books, and his only lights were a naked bulb hanging above the bed, a candle on the crate he used as a bedside table, and a flashlight that, along with his numerous medication bottles and two inhalers, he always had with him. But the most forboding thing about this room were the four locks on the door, two of which could also be locked from the outside and could only be unlocked with the keys Tokui always carried with him.

Though neither Touma nor Mika could explain their son's Spartan lifestyle, they also couldn't say they were too terribly surprised he would choose a small, dark, enclosed space over a larger, warmer, brighter one. After all, in the past he had been discovered in closets, pantries, vacant studios, or, failing to find such a space, dark corners. And he always had a book and his flashlight.

"I'll go down first. Give me five minutes. I'll have her moved into the kitchen and talking, so you should be able to sneak out the front door before anyone notices," Amai instructed, though it was unneccesary. Tokui had been through this drill many times before.

Amai opened the door and closed it, and Tokui lifted his right wrist, pushed up the sleeve of his very baggy black sweater, and looked at his watch to count down. (Another little known fact about Tokui, as he kept his watch hidden and never wrote anything if people were watching: he was left handed, one of the few traits besides his looks he had inherited from his uncle) Satisfied that five minutes were up, he began to slink silently down the stairs.

Tokui left his bicycle chained to a streetlight in front of a convenience store and took his inhaler out of the blue satchel he always carried, taking in two deep puffs and placing it back into the bag. He was still panting, and a few people were staring at him, but this was nothing new to him as he continued, on foot, for the last 15 minutes of his journey. (He always parked his bicycle between fifteen and twenty minutes walking distance from his final destination.)

He finally arrived at his destination and, still panting and wheezing (prompting him to take two more puffs from both of his inhalers) after scaling the stairs (elevators were too crowded and public and besides that, Tokui had a horrible phobia of them), finally forced himself to give the door he stood before two light taps, though he had a key. (He had six keys on the necklace he always wore around his neck but hid under his shirt: two for his bedroom, one to his mother's house, one to his father's house, one to his bicycle lock, and one to this apartment.)

It didn't take long for the door to open. Standing on the other side was a man, who, despite being well into his thirties by now, still looked as youthful and vibrant as ever, with his slightly-messy bright pink hair and glittering violet eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of blue shorts and a black tank-top, towel draped around his shoulders and pink toothbrush hanging from his mouth, obviously just getting ready to start the day though it was three in the afternoon.

He removed the toothbrush from his mouth as he looked over the visitor. "Tokui, you have a key. You don't have to knock, you know..." Shuichi said at last, before taking the boy into a friendly, one-armed embrace. "Now get in here and sit down. You look like you're going to faint."

Tokui nodded and obeyed, sitting on the couch in the large but sparsely decorated living room, as he had thousands of times before. He could rest assured that no matter what changed in the outside world, time could never touch this apartment or anyone inhabiting it. His uncle had changed very little appearence-wise in sixteen years (except for the barely noticeable touches of gray in his hair) and his uncle's lover hadn't changed at all, remaining the same one-armed, pink-haired, energetic man Tokui had always known him as.

"Yuki!" Shuichi shouted, disappearing into the hallway.

"Not now, Shuichi," came the almost growling reply.

"It's important!"

"It can wait."

"Tokui's here."

Those words seemed to touch something off in the other man, for when Shuichi returned (and headed straight for the kitchen) Yuki wasn't very far behind him.

Yuki looked the boy up and down. He was sitting on the corner of the couch furthest away from him, eyes pointed at his lap, where his hands were folded and almost invisable beneath his sweater sleeves. Yuki just sighed and sat on the opposite end of the couch. Years ago he would have lit a cigarette after sitting down, but after about three tries he'd kicked the habit completely about 12 years ago.

"Your mother know you're here?" Yuki asked.

Tokui shook his head.

"Your father?"

Another negative.

"Your sister, at the very least?"

Tokui shook his head a last time, his eyes starting to fill with tears again as he sensed he was in trouble.

Yuki sighed deeply. "For one thing, you have to tell someone where you're going. If not your parents or sister, at least call and tell us you're on your way so if something happens someone knows you're missing."

Tokui nodded.

Yuki continued. "And for another thing, try to find some other way of getting here. Call a cab, take a bus, use one of your father's drivers, anything. It takes you two hours to ride here on your bicycle, and you always leave it God-only-knows-where and walk the rest of the way here. You know you have asthma and chronic bronchitis, as well as weak joints. The doctor has told you a thousand times not to overexert yourself. When you come here you can't even breathe and your joints hurt so badly you can't move. And then you insist on riding you bicycle back home. One of these days you'll kill yourself that way. If I have to, I'll tell your mother to have someone guard you at all times and make sure you don't pull any stunts like these. Got it?"

A few tears slid down Tokui's cheeks as he swallowed and nodded. Shuichi entered the living room again, putting down a tray with three cups of tea on the coffee table and sitting next to the boy, taking him into another embrace.

"Yuki, you made him cry!" Shuichi scolded. "He's heard all that before. You should be flattered that he loves you enough to put himself in so much pain to get here."

"I am flattered, but I'm also worried!" Yuki argued. "He needs to learn that adults tell him things for a reason, and if he's going to comprimise his health and possibly his life by coming here, then if he wants to continue coming here he needs to have someone give him a ride. He knows he's always welcome here, whether we're here or not, but he shouldn't have to kill himself to get here!"

Shuichi took his arm from around Tokui and picked up a cup of tea. "Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Tokui hesitantly took the cup, and took a few small sips. "G-Gomen nasai, Eiri-ojisan," he said at last. "And arigatou, Sh-Shindou-san."

It was Shuichi's turn to sigh in exhasperation. "Tokui, you've known me all your life. I was just upstairs from you when you were born. I saw you when you were four days old. I was the fourth person to ever hold you, after the doctor, your father and your uncle. Call me Shuichi. Or better yet, call me Shuichi-ojisan, since I've been with your uncle long enough."

"Gomen nasai, Shindou-san."

Shuichi sighed and Yuki put his forehead in his hand and sighed, shaking his head. Tokui just sipped some more tea before placing his cup back on the tray.

"Tokui, are you planning on staying for dinner?" Shuichi asked. The boy only shrugged slightly, still staring at his feet.

"Shuichi, make enough for him. Tokui, lay down on the couch and take a nap. Shuichi and I have something we need to do in the office. It shouldn't take longer than a couple of minutes," Yuki instructed, standing and stretching. Shuichi looked confused, but he stood up and followed the blonde man into the office. He was surprised when Yuki shut the door behind them.

"What's going on?" Shuichi asked, looking at Yuki's narrow golden-hazel eyes, which told him nothing, as always.

Yuki sighed and sat down in his desk chair. "I think I'm going to have to call his father."

Shuichi walked over to the desk, leaning on the phone before Yuki could try to pick it up. "No! You can't do that!" Shuichi cried. "We're probably the only people he trusts! We can't betray him like that!"

"We can't let him kill himself, either!" Yuki argued. "Shuichi, Tokui is sick! Not just physically, either! And if I don't call Touma and tell him then Tokui is going to end up dead, and I know I don't want that!"

"We've tried talking to Seguchi-san before! And Mika-san, too!" Shuichi pointed out. "All Mika-san does is get tougher on him, and all Seguchi-san does is coddle him! They aren't helping! The least we can do is give him someplace where he can feel safe and comfortable!"

"Funny to hear you talking about coddling him, since all you ever do is wait on him hand and foot!" Yuki pointed out.

"That's not what I meant!" Shuichi cried out. He took his hand off the phone and looked down at the floor. "Yuki, first, let's stop fighting before one of us says something we'll regret later."

"Fine," Yuki said with a nod. He reached over to pick up the phone, but Shuichi once again leaned on it.

"And secondly, calling his parents will get him no where and will get us out of his good graces. I agree that we have to do something, but not that," Shuichi said pointedly. It was uncharacteristically mature for him, but, as Yuki had discovered long ago, the other man did have his moments...

"After that, I'm out of ideas," Yuki muttered, spinning around to face his computer screen. "Short of having him commited, anyway, but that wouldn't help matters, either."

Shuichi sat down in the chair he had placed next to Yuki's desk chair years ago. "No, that wouldn't. But if he keeps coming here, then it sounds like he just wants to be closer to people he trusts. Maybe if we can have him move in with someone he trusts completely he won't keep running away and hurting himself."

Yuki leaned back in his chair. "But where? He can't stay here. I mean, I love Tokui. He's my nephew, and I watched him grow up. I'm more of a father to him than Touma is. And his invitation to come here is twenty-four hours a day. But I can't take care of him full time. He needs constant medical care, he needs to see a psychiatrist, and he won't eat or sleep unless he is ordered to."

Shuichi tried not to flinch when Yuki said that he loved his nephew. He knew that it wasn't in a romantic sense, but the fact he could say it so easily about Tokui but, even after almost seventeen years and a near-death encounter, still couldn't say it to him except for once in a blue moon (and usually in his sleep) still stung him. Shuichi had told Yuki years ago that he understood what they had had extended beyond the need to reassure themselves with the "l" word, and that if Yuki didn't want to say it then he never had to and Shuichi would understand, but sometimes he just wished to hear it, even if it was just for comformation that they really had what he thought they had.

"Well, where else does he go when he runs away?" Shuichi asked at last, leaning on his only arm on the table.

"The NG building. People are always finding him in closets, empty studios, unused offices, and even dark corners of otherwise occupied rooms. Touma actually gives whoever finds him and sends him to his office a substantial cash reward," Yuki explained. "But he can't live there, obviously. And since he doesn't go there to be near his father, having him live with Touma full time is out of the question."

"Then I guess we're stuck," Shuichi said softly, leaning against Yuki. "I want to help him, but I don't know how."

Yuki sighed. "I don't, either. All I know is that right now he's supposed to be out in the living room waiting for us to finish doing whatever important errand we were supposed to be doing."

"500 yen says he's not in the living room when we walk out there," Shuichi said challengingly, standing up.

"Please, that's practically a given. Leave him alone for more than five seconds and he disappears."

They walked out of the office and into the living room. Sure enough, the boy was gone. Yuki just sighed and sat on the couch as Shuichi went into the kitchen to finish their evening meal.

It only took Tokui another ten minutes on his bicycle to reach the towering NG Records Headquarters, his father's record industry empire. Of course, he left his bicycle chained to a sign and obscured by bushes and, though he could have just walked in whenever he pleased, he managed to slip in through an open window that lead to an empty rehearsal room and from there, after looking around the halls to make sure no one was looking, began to dart toward the stairwell.

"Not so fast!" a familiar voice that froze him in his tracks called out.

Tokui pressed himself against the wall and looked at his sister, who, though smiling and standing in a semi-relaxed pose, had a look that demanded to know where he had been and how long he'd been there.

"I left that window open on purpose," Amai told him. "I knew you'd come in through that way. All I had to do was hide in the rehearsal room accross the hall and wait for you to take the bait. Fortunately, I'm a patient person." She approached him, taking his sachel and removing his inhaler, handing it to him. "Take this. You're weezing."

Tokui gratefully took the medicine and breathed in two deep puffs, finally managing to breathe normally. "You're not going to tell Tousan, are you?" he asked nervously.

Amai shook her head as she opened her brother's sachel and began to look through his belongings. "Wouldn't dream of it," she said softly as she examined the items. She finally removed a book. "This is one of Eiri-ojisan's books, ne?"

Tokui nervously reached for his sachel and book, but Amai jerked them both out of the way. "Ooooh, I've read this one before!" She looked at him, an almost sadistic grin spreading across her face. "Want me to show you where all the dirty parts are?"

Tokui finally grabbed the items back, putting the book back into the sachel. "N-no! That's not why I read them!" he cried nervously.

Amai just sighed and looked at her watch. "You're no fun. Look, I'm supposed to be rehearsing in ten minutes in rehearsal room five on the second floor. That means if you want to get a headstart and hide from Tousan and my manager, you'd better get running now."

"Arigatou," Tokui said, bowing slightly before darting toward the stairwell again.

Amai just rolled her eyes and walked in the direction of the elevator.

Seguchi Touma leaned back in his desk chair, dark green eyes fixed on the folder he was holding in his right hand, and fingers of his left hand drumming on the arm of his chair, his legs crossed and his entire body, though relaxed, could give one the feeling that, if neccessary, he would pounce on them like a lion in tall grass and devour them at a moment's notice, even with his delicate (and, as people who had seen his daughter would be quick to note, feminine) features and babyface.

And as Touma definately didn't look pleased at the moment, he seemed much more intimidating then he usually did. He finally sat the folder onto the desk and leaned forward, resting on his elbows and steepling his fingers in front of his mouth, tapping his index fingers in thought. Finally, he stared directly at the man in the neatly pressed black buisness suit before him, quickly scanning his dark eyes for any signs of being unnerved. Sure enough, the man was nervous.

Touma sighed and opened the folder again. "I'm not impressed, Nakano-san," he said at last to the man most knew as Hiro of Bad Luck fame. "Not impressed at all. I suppose this is partially my fault, giving you an assignment that I had so much personal stake in, but if you had done your job correctly then my relationship with your assignment wouldn't be an issue."

Hiro just nodded. He'd known this day was a long time in coming, but he'd never expected he'd be so nervous when it finally came.

"Nakano-san," Touma said at last after reviewing the contents of the folder again. "I expect a certain level of quality in the performance of my employees. You're an intelligent man, you're talented, and you know the music industry like the back of your hand. I had very high expectations when I hired you back to NG after your contract expired as a manager, hence I trusted you with handling my daughter's career."

"I understand that, Seguchi-san. And I am doing the best job I can with the resources I have available to me," Hiro explained.

Touma stood up and began to walk to the front of his desk. "I dislike managers who don't actually manage anything, Nakano-san. Why do you think I fired Sakano-san as yours and hired Mr. K? When Grasper was formed- and pardon me for waxing nostalgic- our manager was spineless. He was only kept as a matter of formality. I did all the work. And I don't want Amai to have to go through that. You know how difficult it is to be a musician. She shouldn't have to worry about picking up the slack her manager left."

Touma walked around behind Hiro, staring at his long red ponytail. "I am not expecting you to be as aggressive as Mr. K was, though I will add that it was his aggressive nature that made him such a great manager. He got the job done no matter what he had to do, and I was actually sad to see him go. I am not expecting you to be up to par with him at all. However, you know how cutthroat the music buisness is. You have to be at the least moderately aggressive, even go beyond legal and moral boundries once in a while to accomplish that final goal: fame. Glory. A number one album. Unfortunately, while you have yourself together, you are too hell-bent on staying within the rules. And that just doesn't cut it in your line of work."

Touma walked back around to face the other man. "That's why, as of today, you are reassigned."

"Excuse me?" Hiro asked, taken off guard. He'd expected to be fired, not given another charge.

"Reassigned," Touma repeated, stepping behind his desk and flipping the pages in the folder until he found another paper. "You have potential, but I am aware that giving you my own daughter is out of your league. She has too many traits that I have, for one thing, and for another thing I am naturally going to want more for her than with the other acts that are currently signed with NG, so even if you aren't doing as bad a job as I am making it sound I can't see that. So, to accurately gauge your abilities, I am going to give you a new assignment, one I have no personal involvment with."

"Should I notify Shuichi?" Hiro asked, still stunned and relieved that he got to keep his job.

"No. Unlike most meetings, he's absent from this one because I didn't ask for him to be here. He isn't being reassigned," Touma explained. "Though he has trouble showing up to meetings on time, if he bothers to show up at all, by some fluke or sheer dumb luck he has managed to perform all of his duties and do a superb job in the process. While I still think Sakano-san was a better producer, sadly he is also no longer working for the company, so I have to make do with what I have."

"Seguchi-san, I am not asking you to give me an undeserved promotion or Shuichi an undeserved demotion, but with all do respect Shuichi can't function without me. That dumb luck you are talking about is me performing his duties and, as a result, neglecting my own," Hiro explained.

"Nakano-san, I am not reassigning Shindou-san. If what you say is true, then I'll see you in your true light and promote you justly and, if neccessary, demote Shindou-san or terminate his employment all together. I'd rather have one employee who does a good job than two who do a mediocre job," Touma said firmly as he sat back down. "Now, as for your new assignment, this will definately be a challenge of your abilities, and I hope to see you rise to the challenge." He shuffled through the papers in his folder again, before taking a pen from the pocket of his suit and making a mark on the paper before him. "He is actually Chinese, for one. His name is Chen Quon Yue. He has great talent as a vocalist, however, and wishes to pursue a solo career here in Japan, so you have two challenges: make him famous despite him being foreign, and make him famous as a solo artist. He also seems to have a habit of crossdressing that you will most likely have to break him of. Either that, or turn it into a gimmick, as even if you can keep him from doing it on stage, if the press catches it offstage his career is over before it began. This assignment will decide if you are worthy of your position. If you can make Chen Quon Yue even a moderate success, I'll think about reassigning you to Amai. Until then, you'll meet your new producer when you meet your assignment. And tell Shindou-san he'll be working with a new manager. Now, I do believe you have one final rehearsal with Amai to attend to."

Hiro sighed and bowed slightly. "Yes, Seguchi-san." He turned to leave the office, but before he could touch the door Touma's voice stopped him.

"And Nakano-san, if you happen to find my son anywhere in the building, send him to my office," Touma instructed.

"Of course," Hiro said.

As soon as Hiro was out of the room, Touma pressed a button, activating the intercom between him and his receptionist. "Sako, please send Sakano-san up."

"So, this is really it?" Amai asked, leaning against the table. "I can't believe Tousan would assign me a new manager without asking me. I really like working with you guys..."

Hiro shrugged. "It wasn't my call. If you can talk to your father and try to get me my old job back, it'd be great, but I think I am stuck managing the Chinese guy for a while."

Amai shrugged. "Well, I'm daddy's little girl. I'll see what I can do. By the way, did he happen to ask about my brother?"

"Doesn't he always?"

"True. Even when he finds him he doesn't do anything, though..."

Amai walked to the door of the rehearsal room. "Well, until I see you again, since I assume I'll still see you around..."

"Yes, of course," Hiro muttered, opening his briefcase. Amai slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving him alone completely.

Hiro looked around the room, hoping to find another sheet of paper. Finding none, he walked over to the closet to get some from the pile usually kept in there for such emergencies. But as soon as he opened the door, he jumped. Crouched inside, holding a flashlight and a book, was the black-clad figure of Seguchi Tokui.

As soon as Hiro's breathing returned to normal, he realized the boy was staring at him. "Tokui, you scared me!"

"Gomen nasai, Nakano-san," he said softly. Hiro could see the boy was blushing. "You're not going to tell Tousan, are you?"

Hiro sighed and shook his head. "No. I'm not. Even though I'm already on his bad side without withholding information on the whereabouts of his son. But dammit, you scared the hell out of me!"

"Gomen nasai," he said again, putting his book in his sachel. "I'll move."

"No, you don't have to. I was leaving, anyway," Hiro explained. "Unless you have a rule about changing hiding places once the one you are currently in is discovered."

Tokui slowly pulled himself to his feet and shook his head. This wasn't the first time the pair had run into each other in this fashion. Despite the fact that most NG employees actively searched for Tokui to claim the reward for returning him to his father, Hiro had the highest success rate in finding him. It was so high, in fact, Hiro was sure that his running into the small blonde teenager so often wasn't mere coincidence.

Hiro ruffled the boy's hair before he turned and picked up his briefcase. He still had to tell Shuichi the bad news, after all...

Tokui stood in the closet for a long moment after Hiro left, expecting him to return. Hoping he'd return. But, resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to return, Tokui looked out into the hallway, before darting over to the staircase, sachel in hand. He managed to sneak out the way he'd come in and get on his bike. It was getting dark, and he wanted to make it back to Yuki and Shuichi's apartment before it became too dark.

Tokui was getting short of breath, and he knew he was still blushing. He prayed that Hiro hadn't seen him blush. Nakano Hiroshi was the only person on earth that Seguchi Tokui allowed to find him. And Nakano Hiroshi was the only person on earth who could engage Seguchi Tokui in real conversation for any great length of time.

And the reason was because Seguchi Tokui was hoplessly in love with Nakano Hiroshi.

And he'd do anything to fall back out of it...

End of Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Near and Far

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"Well, I guess it sucks to be you," Shuichi announced at last. It was the first thing he had said for close to a minute, upon hearing the news that Hiro had been reassigned. He leaned further back in the booth, picking up a fry and chewing on it.

"That's it?" Hiro asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd expected more of a response from the smaller, pink-haired man in the rumpled, too-large gray buisness suit (which had once belonged to him) than an indifferent statement.

"What do you want me to do? Burst into tears?" Shuichi asked, fry sticking out of his mouth.

"Well, yes. That's what the old Shuichi would have done," Hiro pointed out.

Shuichi finished his fry and sighed, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. "No, actually, the 'old Shuichi' wouldn't have because, emotional as 'old Shuichi' was, he would have realized it's not like he is being seperated from you forever. So we work in different offices at different times and have different touring schedules. We can still see each other outside of work, right? Or did Seguchi-san also forbid you from ever seeing me again or we'll both lose our jobs? If that's the case, I will start crying and I'll quit my job."

"So you don't care?" Hiro asked in disbelief.

"I didn't say that! I do care! But there's nothing I can do about it, now, is there? Seguchi-san hates me. He always has and he always will. My advice is to shape up so you can get reassigned again if you want to work with me."

"You want me to shape up! The only reason it looks like I'm doing a bad job is because I'm always pulling your ass out of the fire!"

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Shuichi snapped. "You only think you have to do everything for me. I've changed, Hiro. I've grown up. True, I have trouble keeping track of dates and times, but other than that I am much more disciplined! You're the one with the problem!"

"Excuse me!" Hiro fumed. "What the hell kind of problem do I have!"

"You're obsessed, for one!" was the angry retort. "Your personal life has gone down the shit hole, and now your professional life is threatening to do the same thing. So what do you do? You try to 'help' me and 'protect' me and 'defend' me because I'm about the only person left for you to help and protect and defend. You've been trying for seventeen years to get me to leave Yuki when it was Yuki that taught me to grow up and learn to do things myself, and I can't thank him enough. Remember what I was like after my accident? If I'd relied on you to take care of me, I'd still be in a wheelchair with you waiting on me hand and foot. But Yuki was forceful. He made me go through physical therapy, and when we got home he still pressed me to do things because he knew I could. Now I can do all the things I did before my accident and more. Hiro, you think you have my best interests in mind, but it's your own that you have in mind! You're lonely and desperate and as long as I need someone- or you think I need someone- then you have a purpose in my life."

"I am not obsessed with you!" Hiro snapped back. "Yeah, I do feel the need to look out for you and yeah, I do hate seeing you in pain. And I do dislike Yuki. While I'll admit if it wasn't for him being so hard on you you probably never would have recovered, to this day I think he only did it so you could return to being his personal maid. But all you two do is fight! Seventeen years after meeting him and you still come to me crying because Yuki said something or did something or didn't say or do something...that doesn't sound like a storybook romance to me. You can do better, Shuichi. Much better."

Shuichi leaned back in the booth. "Maybe I can. But I don't want to. We've been through this before, Hiro: our relationship is complicated, but we love each other. We don't want or need anyone else. Besides, after we fight he apologizes. He's never really hurt me. I personally don't see a problem. I think the problem is that you can't face the fact that it's time for you to move on, so rather than worrying about finding a new relationship for yourself you concentrate on ruining mine. Ayaka is happilly married with four kids now, and Fujisaki probably won't be coming back from America any time soon. They've moved on. Why can't you? You need to get out there and start dating again. Meet new people. Give romance another try. Third time's a charm, after all."

Hiro leaned forward over his food, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes. "I know, deep down inside, you're right. About me needing to start dating again, that is. I still think you should ditch the dead weight and hit the singles circuit yourself, but since telling you so would be wasting my breath I'll refrain."

"Thank you."

"But it just hurts so much to think about it. Every time I start to care about someone, start to get really serious, they go away, You're the only person in my life who is really consistant. We've done everything together. You said it yourself over seventeen years ago: you and I are Bad Luck. No one else. Not even Suguru. Even when we're not making music we're a team. And I just kinda took it for granted we always would be."

"We still are a team!" Shuichi cried defensively. "You're still my better half! You're my best friend, Hiro, and you always will be!" Shuichi walked to the other side of the booth and sat next to him, leaning over to give him a one-armed embrace. "I guess it's one of those 'I love you, but I'm not in love with you' things. You and Yuki are tied as being the two most important people in my life, and if I lost either one of you I don't know what I'd do. Besides, we have so much history together I don't think we can not be friends at this point."

"Hypothetically speaking, if I asked you to give up Yuki to date me, would you do it?" Hiro asked.

Shuichi looked up, trying to see if he was kidding. While he didn't appear to be joking, he didn't look serious, either. "Hypothetically speaking, no," he answered at last. "I don't know why you'd ask me to do that. We established years ago that even if we do sometimes 'play' with each other, we are just really close friends, and that's it, so don't try to spring it on me that you love me now. The only other reason I can see that you'd ask me to do that is because you are really desperate to get me away from Yuki, in which case even if I did do that it would never ever work."

Hiro buried his face in Shuichi's strawberry-scented hair and sighed contededly. "Going to be weird going on a tour without you, though. How will I ever pass the time?"

"Maybe Fujisaki told Seguchi-san about our little 'activites' and that's the real reason you were reassigned."

"Want to spend the night at my place? For old time's sake?"

"No can do. After Bad Luck disbanded- the official Bad Luck, anyway, as we live on- I swore myself to monogamy. Yuki and I were both sick of getting jealous every time I went on tour, thinking about who the other was with. Besides, I'm older. My sex drive isn't running at top speed anymore."

"But everything else is..."

Shuichi giggled and buried himself deeper in his best friend's chest. "I love you, Hiro. But in a run-into-a-burning-building-and-risk-my life-to-save-you sense, not a will-you-be-my-Valentine sense."

"Works for me."

It was ten o'clock at night when Shuichi dragged himself home. The house was dark except for a dim light over the kitchen sink and the light of the television. Yuki was sitting on one end of the couch, and there was a lump wrapped in blankets on the other end, facing away from the rest of the house.

"When did he come back?" Shuichi asked, knowing it was Tokui under the blankets.

"Right after you left. I called Mika and told her he was staying here, and I'm going to rig up a trap to make sure he doesn't try to leave early in the morning," Yuki explained.

"A trap? How do you propose to do that?" Shuichi asked curiously.

Yuki stood up and left the room for a second. When he returned he was carrying five pieces of thread, each one with a little bell tied to it. He opened the door to the apartment, draped them over the top of the door, then shut it before they could hit the floor on the other side. "If he tries to open that door, they'll hit the floor and we'll wake up. Or I will. You can sleep through a low-flying B-52 flying overhead. Can and have. Even if I don't wake up, it should startle him enough to send him back into the house."

"That, or scare him so much he makes a mad dash for the stairs," Shuichi pointed out.

"That's unlikely. He likes to run away, but he doesn't like people to know when he's leaving. If he even thinks we heard those bells, he'll give it up and try again later."

Shuichi suddenly threw his arm around Yuki. "Yuki, you're so smart!"

Yuki looked down at Shuichi. "You smell like aftershave."

"I was with Hiro tonight. Nothing to get jealous about."

"Knowing what you do with Hiro?"

"What I used to do. I am all your's now. He had to tell me something important about work so we met at a restaurant to discuss it."

"That doesn't explain why you smell like aftershave."

"Just an innocent little hug! I'm trying to get Hiro to date again. He's lonely and I have to suffer for it."

Yuki sighed. "Take a shower before you come to bed. I don't like sleeping with you when you smell like another man."

"Can I sleep on your back?" Shuichi asked, sounding like an excited child who had just been offered an ice cream cone.

"By all means. Just be careful where you sleep this time. I don't know where you were or what you did last time, but I woke up with a horrible pain in the middle of my back."

Shuichi leaned up against Yuki. "Aww...should have told me. I would have given you a massage."

"Go take a shower. Now."

"Then can we fool around?"

"While Tokui's here?"

"Okay. Scratch that."

With that, Shuichi retreated to the bathroom.

It was the early morning hours when Yuki hears the bells clattering to the floor. A quick glance at the clock indicated that it was about five in the morning, just after the break of dawn. With a slight groan, Yuki began the difficult task of detaching Shuichi's arm from around his waist and removing him from where he was laying on his back, with his head rested between his shoulderblades. He rolled Shuichi over so he was laying on his back on the bed, covered him up, then grabbed a pair of sweatpants to put on over his boxers, quickly slipping them on and walking into the living room.

Tokui must have slammed the door behind him when the bells scared him, though Yuki hadn't heard it. Now he was pressed up against the door, his arms braced in the doorframe, hyperventilating. Yuki walked over to the boy, opened his sachel for him, and handed him his inhaler, which he eagerly tore from his hand, taking in two deep inhalations of medicine. When his breathing slowed again, he put it back with the rest of his medicine.

"G-Gomen nasai, Eiri-ojisan," he whispered, still shaking slightly.

"Sit down on the couch. And take your medicine. You can't have taken it already this morning," Yuki ordered. He walked into the kitchen, opened the door, and grabbed a can of Shuichi's soda, putting it on the coffee table in front of the shivering teen.

It took some effort for Tokui to open the can. After succeeding, he took out a plastic pill caddy and opened up the slot for Thursday morning. No fewer than eight pills were in there, and he took one after another, following each with a swallow of soda. The can was almost empty by the time he finished taking his medication, and he put the caddy back into his bag.

Once, years ago, Yuki could have listed what each pill was for. Since his birth, his nephew had seemed to be cursed with every disease known to man, plagued with a slew of nuerological, respiratory, cardiovascular, muscular, and digestive problems as well as anemia and a severe allergy to many foods, and had almost died twice in his life. When he had been born two months premature, he was the smaller and weaker twin, underdeveloped because his sister had grown more rapidly than he had. He had stayed in the hospital almost a year, and it had taken five months before anyone could hold him. That was the first time he had nearly died. He'd actually been declared dead at one point when doctors failed to revive him, but suddenly, miraculously, his heart had began to beat again.

And when he was two he was once again struck down by illness. His heart and lungs had nearly given out, and he'd spent the better part of three years in the hospital, missing his chance to go to school with his sister or to go outside and make friends. Yuki had a feeling that it was these years without social interaction that had turned him into the timid creature he was today, though his sneaky nature and preference for small, enclosed spaces couldn't be as easily explained.

School had been chalked up as a failed experiment. He hadn't actually gone to school until he was twelve, and he kept hiding in the corners, refusing to sit at his desk or answer the teachers. Students would torment him endlessly, further ruining his opinion of other people, and if it wasn't for his sister he probably would have been driven to self-destruction. This was probably when he learned to sneak around, and even at school he was found in closets all the time. Finally deciding that Tokui would never be able to function in a school environment, Touma took him out (against Mika's wishes, though she couldn't deny it was better for him) and re-hired the tutor he had had when he was sick. (A female tutor, Yuki had noted when he'd first met her.)

"It's rude to take advantage of our hospitality and leave without at least saying good bye," Yuki said at last. The sun was rising quickly now, and he wished he was back in his bed more than anything else.

"Gomen nasai," Tokui whispered again.

"Don't apologize," Yuki ordered. "If you would listen to what I told you in the first place you wouldn't need to apologize. Now, if you want to go home, I'll give you a ride. If you want to go to NG, then wait until Shuichi wakes up and he'll take you when Nakano-san comes to pick him up. And if you don't want to go to either of those places, then why the hell were you sneaking out?"

"I don't know," Tokui whispered, his eyes filling with tears again. He seemed to shrink under his uncle's golden gaze.

"If you don't know where you want to go, then why the hell are you leaving? Why are you trying to kill yourself for no apparent reason? I've kind of grown accustomed to having you around, Tokui, and I don't want to have to bury you at age sixteen."

At that moment, Shuichi walked out of the bedroom, wearing his boxers and one of Yuki's old T-shirts. He stretched and yawned. "Okay, what gives? It's five in the morning."

"Tokui was trying to sneak out again," Yuki said, though he was glaring at Tokui when he said it. "I'm trying to talk some sense into him."

"At five in the morning? Can't you just tie him up and come back to bed for a few hours?" Shuichi muttered, throwing himself onto the couch next to Tokui. Tokui was looking at him fearfully. Noticing this, Shuichi sighed. "I'm kidding, Tokui. But it is too early for this..."

Yuki walked further into the living room and sat in his favorite chair with Shuichi leaning against the back of it. "You said it's five, Shuichi?"

"Well, closer to five-thirty..."

Yuki suddenly stood. "Touma usually arrives at NG at seven sharp, so he should still be home-"

"Yuki, no!" Shuichi cried. "Don't call his father!"

Tokui leaned further into the couch. Shuichi always sided with him, which made Tokui feel he was partially to blame for his uncle's problems with his lover, but Amai had assured him that, according to their father, their relationship had been rocky (to say the least) from the very beginning, and that what they had now was actually an improvement. "Marital troubles" was the term Amai used, usually followed by a snicker, though Tokui knew (mostly from overheard conversations) that most people DID think of his uncle and Shuichi as a married couple. (Amai had also said something about how Shuichi was an Aries and Yuki was a Pisces, two signs that usually had trouble working together, in the same breath that she mentioned Leo and Virgo didn't work well together.)

"I'm not going to call him," Yuki said. Both Shuichi and Tokui looked confused at this remark. "I was trying to think of where Tokui could possibly be going this early in the morning. NG's doors never open to anyone but security guards before Touma arrives. Not even Tokui could get through."

"So what are you going to do with him?" Shuichi asked softly, dreading the answer.

"I'm sending him to NG with you when Nakano comes to pick you up. And you and Amai are both going to keep an eye on him at all times. Then, when you come home, you're bringing him with you. In the meantime, I am going to call his parents. He's going to be staying here for a while. That way he is already here so he doesn't have to kill himself coming here, and he can get rides with you to and from NG. It will give his health a chance to improve and teach him not to be so secretive about everything. And to make sure he doesn't sneak out, I am going to install a security system. And I'm not going to give him the code. If he wants to come in or go out he has to ask one of us," Yuki explained cooly.

Shuichi wasn't sure if Yuki was serious, considering what he had said the day before. Perhaps the early hour was preventing him from thinking clearly...

"Yuki, you can't be serious," Shuichi said softly. "You can't take care of him. WE can't take care of him. We're both so busy. We can hardly give him enough attention as it is."

"I've been thinking long and hard about this, Shuichi," Yuki confirmed. "It's not the best solution, but the only one I can find. If either one of his parents wants to take extra steps, then they are free to do so. But until they stop worrying about their son's eccentricities and start worrying about his health I really do think this is the only thing that can be done. I'm sorry, Tokui, but unless you can prove to us that you're going to put aside your need to ridiculously secretive and you're going to start doing things with concern for your health, I am going to have to be firm on you."

Tokui was speechless. Of all the things he'd expected his uncle to do, this was about the last, and he was having mixed emotions about the whole arrangement. On the one hand, he would always be close to his uncle, who he idolized and regarded as his mentor, and would be near Shuichi, who always lavished him with attention and did many things for him, something that felt nice after years of exile, both involuntary and self-imposed. But on the other hand, his freedom would be gone. No coming and going between his parents' houses, his uncle's apartment, and NG whenever he wished, no sneaking away when people weren't looking, no hiding himself in a rehearsal room closet so he could hear Nakano-san's wonderful voice...

That last thought suddenly struck him cold. Hiro was Shuichi's best friend. They got together often, at both of their apartments (usually at Hiro's apartment, since the man couldn't stand his best friend's lover), and Hiro gave Shuichi a ride to work (in his car, since he had kept his motorcycle safely stored away with his guitar since leaving his rock star life behind) every day and would now be giving Tokui rides. It was one thing being close to the man when he knew he couldn't see him, but to actually be there, right out in the open...the thought made him both nervous and excited.

"Any protests, Tokui?" Yuki asked, as if the boy had a choice. He was rather surprised at this reaction, as it seemed that the boy wanted to live in this apartment, even at the cost of his freedom.

"What about me?" Shuichi asked. "I love Tokui right to death, but I can't take care of him! And neither can you! I thought you were the one who didn't want kids, Yuki."

"Is that what you're really mad about, Shuichi?" Yuki asked, rolling his eyes slightly. "You think I'm being a hypocrite because when you wanted to adopt I put my foot down, but I'm willing to take care of Tokui. Well, Tokui's a little different. For one, he's a teenager. He can pretty much take care of himself, even though he needs a little push in the right direction every now and then. And for another thing, he's family. I am not going to sit back and watch my flesh and blood hurt and kill himself. I thought you'd be happy at the chance to take care of him full time."

Suddenly, it became clear why Amai (and everyone else) seemed to enjoy comparing the two to a married couple to Tokui: the way they argued, the way they acted around each other, the things they talked about and fought about- they were all things that were to be expected of a man and a woman who had been married for about twenty years, not two men who were only live-in lovers. Of course, the fact that they had had seventeen years to get to know each other and learn each other's quirks might have had something to do with it...

Shuichi put his arm over Yuki's shoulder, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek slightly. "I just wonder if there would be enough time for us, that's all,"

Yuki sighed slightly before turning his head and lightly brushing a kiss against his lover's lips. "There will be plenty of time for us. If anything, having someone else around could help us. The longer we're here alone the more we fight. If someone else is here we have to get along."

Shuichi walked around to the front of the chair, placing himself in Yuki's lap so that he could kiss him easier. At first, neither seemed to notice Tokui sitting just across the room, but after a few moments Yuki broke away. "Shuichi, we've got a guest."

Tokui almost old them that he didn't mind. In fact, he enjoyed watching them kiss, though usually he had to hide and watch them do it secretly. He liked to watch them do many things: kiss, sleep together, and once he'd even watched them being intimate (on a night where they didn't even know he was in the house). He envied them greatly and wished there was someone who could do those things with him. Sometimes he fantasized about doing those things with Nakano-san, but they were just fantasies, and nothing more.

Shuichi sighed and put a kiss on Yuki's cheek. "Well, if I'm not going to go back to bed, I might as well take a shower and make breakfast."

"So he's really going to be living with you?" Hiro asked, gesturing with his head toward the back seat, where Tokui was curled up, as if he thought doing so would cause him to disappear. And probably wishing that would happen.

"That's what Yuki says. I don't know if he means it or not, but he sounded serious," Shuichi confirmed. He was wearing another one of Hiro's old suits, only this one was dark blue. After retiring from singing, Shuichi had been abruptly forced to "grow up". Unfortunately, with the wardrobe he had, he wasn't able to dress for the part, and had began to raid Yuki and Hiro's closets for clothes that they no longer wore. Now, five years later, he still chose to wear the clothes of the two men that mattered most to him rather than buy his own, even if he had to pin the sleeves of all of them up.

"Well, considering that he isn't one to joke, let alone about something like that, and he isn't the kind of person who rushes into things, I think he means it," Hiro pointed out.

Shuichi sighed and leaned back in the car seat. "Today you're supposed to meet that guy you're managing, right?"

"Right," Hiro said with a nod, turning the car into NG's parking garage. He held up his pass to the attendant, who nodded and raised the gate. "And you'll meet Amai's new manager."

"Fun," Shuichi muttered as Hiro eased his car into a parking space. He opened his door, leaning against the vehicle as he waited for Hiro and Tokui to exit. He forced Tokui to get in front of him before he and Hiro began their trek into the NG building.

"You need to get a haircut," Hiro observed, tugging a lock of bright pink hair playfully.

"Look whose talking," Shuichi retorted, giving Hiro's ponytail a playful yank.

"I have always had long hair. It's expected of me. But you just look like a bum who is too cheap to buy his own clothes and get a haircut," Hiro explained.

"I think you'd look good with short hair."

"I think you'd look good with black hair."

"All right! All right! After work I'll call for an appointment, but you're taking me. The least you can do is trim those split ends..."

"I don't have split ends!"

"Then what's this?" Shuichi asked, lifting up Hiro's ponytail to show him what he was looking at.

Hiro grabbed his hair and examined the end. "Dear lord, I have split ends..."

"See? Now we both need a trim."

Tokui was facing the asphalt-paved ground, looking as if he was heading toward his execution. He couldn't slip away or run, because not only would Shuichi no longer trust him, but it wouldn't impress Hiro much. Besides, he liked hearing the two men joke. He had always felt the pair had an ideal relationship, and he could tell that Hiro was protective of his best friend. From bits and pieces of conversations he had overheard, when Shuichi was younger he had gotten himself into a great deal of trouble, and it was often Hiro's job to pick up the pieces when it was over or get him back out of it. About the only thing keeping this man from being absolutely perfect in the blonde teen's mind was that he hated Yuki, for no reason that Tokui could figure out. He knew that his uncle was a cold man and at times difficult to like, but that didn't give anyone an excuse to flat-out hate him.

They approached the door to the main part of the building, stepping in. A receptionist looked up as the group walked in, nodded, then resumed looking at her magazine. They continued until they reached a corridor, when Shuichi suddenly embraced Hiro tightly.

"Don't leave me!" he cried out. "I can't work without you!"

"There's the Shuichi I know and love..." Hiro muttered as he detached his best friend from from his body. "It's just like you said yesterday, Shuichi: we'll still see each other after work and in the halls."

Shuichi detached himself from Hiro and smoothed down the front of his clothes. "Sorry. Don't know what got into me. Guess I got up too early today. Come, Tokui, you're sister and whoever this new manager person is are upstairs waiting for us."

Shuichi walked down the hall and was about to step on an elevator when Tokui grabbed his sleeve. "I'm afraid of elevators," he whispered softly. "Could we p-please take the stairs?"

Shuichi sighed and headed toward the stairwell, leaving Hiro alone to head in the direction of Seguchi Touma's office.

Seguchi Touma was late.

This was not something entirely unheard of, as the man was known to be a tad late from time to time, being the busy man that he was, even if he arrived at his office at the same time every single day like clockwork and would do so probably until the day he died, which, at the rate he was aging, probably wouldn't be for another two-hundred years.

And the fact that Hiro had to wait in his boss's office didn't bother him. It was the fact that he wasn't waiting alone that was...

A woman, about Hiro's age if not a little younger, in a neatly-pressed dark red skirt suit, pink shirt, and black high heels and tie was standing in front of Touma's desk. Her hair was brown and neatly trimmed, her eyes were smokey gray and wholly unremarkable, covered by oval-shaped glasses, and her skin had a slightly darker tone than those from the Tokyo area, suggesting she was from another part of the country, possibly Okinawa, and she was holding a briefcase similar to Hiro's. But she was so neat and plain that it was scary. She could just as easily have been a robot as a real, living, breathing woman. And the fact that she looked straight ahead and didn't acknowledge Hiro's presence in any way seemed to support the android theory.

Hiro tried to distract himself from this possibly mechanical woman by looking around the office, which he had seen at least a thousand times before. It had recently been recarpeted with a cream-colored carpet that Hiro guessed had to be steam cleaned frequently considering the amount of traffic that treaded over it, and besides the large mahogany desk and black desk chair it was furnished with two comfortable black chairs in front of the desk and a black couch on either side of the large room, if for nothing other than to take up space. There were potted plants scattered about the room, and at one end were the large, almost forboding oak doors, whereas the other side was taken up by a huge picture window. The other two walls were painted white, but several gold and platinum records were hanging all over them, both from Nittle Grasper and the other acts NG had managed to make a success. There was also a trophy case for other awards that the bands and company itself had earned.

Finally the doors flew open, and Seguchi Touma stepped into his office, his steps making no sound on the carpet, wearing a hunter green suit with a mint green shirt and dark green shoes and tie. But it was who was behind him that had Hiro's attention...

The man was extremely pale, almost to the point where he looked unhealthy. His hair was long, draping to about his waist, and hung loose, but the coloring was most unusual. The right half was a brilliant silver color, but the left half was deep blue. He was wearing ripped up white jeans, a dark blue T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He also had a large assortment of jewelry, each ear adorned with no fewer than seven pairs of earrings in various designs, and each finger (pinkies and thumbs included) bedecked with a different silver ring with an alternating pattern of a black onyx and a deep sapphire studding each one. Around his neck was a black leather dog collar, a silver coin on a thin silver chain, and a silver cross. If he wasn't so strange looking, he could have been handsome.

But what Hiro noticed most were his eyes.

Those horrible, horrible eyes.

When he'd first entered, Hiro was sure they had been almost black in color, but when he'd turned to face Hiro they'd lightened considerably to an icy color, and now seemed to be turning bright blue. They immediately replaced Yuki Eiri's and Aizawa Tachi's as the worst eyes he had ever seen in his life, as they seemed to bore deep into his soul. He also noticed that there seemed to be some kind of defect in his left one, that the iris and pupil were a bit smaller and it didn't seemed to focus quite like the other, though it didn't seem to be blind. Though he couldn't place what exactly was wrong with it, he knew that it seemed oddly familiar. But no matter what was wrong with it, it unnerved him nonetheless.

The man's eyes turned black as he averted his gaze back to Touma, making his defect clearer. Hiro wondered if those eyes changed color at random, or with his mood. It seemed to be the latter, as they remained dark as he adopted an indifferent look.

"I apologize for being late," Touma began, looking around the room at the strange trio before him. "I believe the best way to begin is for you to introduce yourselves to each other, as you all know me quite well already." Touma pasted on a smile that, while meant to create the illusion of warmth, just struck Hiro as being smug, like the man knew that this was his situation. He had complete control.

When the other two made no motion to introduce themselves, Hiro sighed. "I am Nakano Hiroshi, and I will be acting as manager."

The woman smiled, though it seemed as fake as Touma's. "I am Kyousei Himeko, and I have been hired to act as a producer." Fortunately, though her voice wasn't exactly warm, it wasn't mechanical, either. Hiro had a feeling that the fact that she seemed mechanical was the main reason Touma had hired her. He loved people who could easily manipulate, like Sakano from Hiro's own music career.

"And I'm Chen Quon Yue," the man that Hiro had immediately decided he extremely disliked announced, making a very exhaggerated bow, obviously meant to mock the others in the room. "I suppose I'll be acting as your musical act for the day."

Touma's grin disappeared at Quon Yue's smugness, and Hiro was relieved to know he wasn't the only one in the room who already disliked him a lot, even if Touma didn't actually have to work with him.

When Quon Yue raised from his fake bow, he flashed an unnervingly charming smile, his eyes glittering bright blue now. They seemed to be full of mischief, and not of a kind that seemed to be in the least bit harmless. Hiro was ready to chalk up Chen Quon Yue as pure evil, and he had a feeling Touma was ready to do the same.

Touma sat down in his seat and shuffled some papers for effect, clearing his throat. "You may use an available rehearsal room. If you'll please excuse me, I have quite a bit of work to do."

Suddenly, Hiro came a realization: Touma was just as unnerved by the young singer as Hiro was and Himeko probably was, though she did a great job of hiding it behind her robotic mask.

"Come on. Let's go make me famous," Quon Yue announced, stepping toward the door. "And it was great meeting you, Seguchi!" he shouted behind him. The lack of formality suggested it was meant to be mocking, and Hiro hesitated to stand and follow the young man, though Himeko didn't seem to have such a problem.

What they didn't see was that as soon as they had left the room, Seguchi Touma actually shuddered. He had signed the man on to be a challenge to Nakano Hiroshi, but it seemed he would be just as much a challenge for him...

"Ukai Saki SUCKS!" Amai fumed, crumpling up the paper in her hand and dropping it, stepping on it. "I'll show her! As soon as my CD is finished we'll see who the last woman standing is!"

Shuichi and the dark haired man with the dark sunglasses and equally dark suit (who had introduced himself has Rosuto Koji) just raised their eyebrows. Tokui would have done the same, had he not sealed himself in the closet.

"Those idiots out there wouldn't know good music if it bit them on the ass! Well, no one shows up Seguchi Amai! I am going to sell so many albums people won't even remember her name when I'm done!" Amai vowed, kicking the review across the floor.

"A little friendly competition is nothing to worry about," Shuichi reassured, though he seemed nervous. Amai had a horrible temper and could be every bit as cunning and ruthless as her father. That, and the fact that she looked exactly like him added to the over-all effect, even if she was much more vocal about her diabolical plans and had a much shorter temper. "I had Nittle Grasper to contend with when my band first came out, after all, and I was still a huge hit."

Amai seemed to calm down upon hearing this. Though she was infinately proud of her father's musical background, the fact that the underdog had triumphed in the end made her feel better, though she by no means thought of herself as the underdog.

"Too bad Sakuma-san never had any children. Then all three of you could have formed a new band. Neo Grasper," Koji mused. He was a soft-spoken man, but had a powerful edge to him, especially since he looked like a secret agent.

"Sakuma-san does have a kid," Shuichi pointed out. "A son. He's seventeen now." Shuichi smiled, thinking of the boy. It was finding out his idol had a child that had made him suddenly want to become a parent so many years ago, and lead to what had to have been his longest and most damaging fight with Yuki ever. Had it not been for Hiro telling Shuichi that the less time Yuki spent caring for a child the more time he could spend with him they probably would have broken up, and Shuichi would forever be amazed that Hiro had been the one to save the relationship he hated so much.

"But there is no way in hell I will work with Ukai Saki," Amai declared, stomping her foot for effect.

"No one said you had to," Shuichi said quickly. "Though the thought is a cool one. The children of the three members of Grasper forming their own band...everyone recognized your father as the leader of the group, so you would probably have the same position."

"Besides, you have nothing against Ukai Saki personally, right?" Koji asked. "It's just that she's older so she got on the music scene before you did. Release a solo album, and if that takes off, then reconsider the Neo Grasper idea."

"We'd have to run the idea by Alexander Sakuma-Winchester first, though," Amai said, her voice turning haughty as she said the older boy's long and fancy name. She'd only met him once and had nothing against him, she just hated how long his name was.

"Alex likes to sing," Shuichi said with a nod. "But you're right: we don't know if either one wants to form a group with you. Rosuto-san is right: worry about your own album first and then worry about forming a band."

Amai shrugged and walked over to the closet, pounding on the door. "What do you think, baby brother?"

"S-sounds great," was the stuttered reply from the other side.

"Well, if Tokui is so thrilled about it, then I'll consider it. But I make no promises, got it?"

End of Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Bought and Sold

Written by A Girl Named Goo

Shuichi dragged himself into the apartment, making a big show about being more tired than he was before throwing himself into Yuki's chair. Unfortunately, Yuki was already seated in it, as was revealed by the loud "oof!" that the man made when Shuichi landed.

"Look before you just sit somewhere, all right?" Yuki growled, though he made no motion to push his pink-haired lover off of his lap.

Shuichi sighed, resting his head on Yuki's shoulder and wrapping his arm around him. This surprised Yuki, as Shuichi usually prattled off his complaints a mile a minute when he was having a bad day. This could only mean he was having a REALLY bad day...

"That bad?" Yuki asked.

"Worse. The new manager is a secret agent, Amai is on the warpath because Ukai Saki has a number one album and now Seguchi-san is breathing down my neck to do something fast so she can get her big break, and the new act that Hiro has to work with is completely evil."

"Where's Tokui?"

"Seguchi-san took him to his house so he and Mika can figure out some way to help him without moving him in here. And no, I did not put him up to it. If anything, you did, since he was steamed when I got there."

Yuki muttered something that sounded like a curse under his breath. He loved his sister and former brother-in-law and respected them and their right to raise their children however they wanted, but sometimes they were both so stubborn that they forgot what was in the best interest of either of the twins.

"I need a vacation," Shuichi whined. "As a matter of fact, so do you. These past few years you've become such a hermit. You don't even go to book signings or interviews anymore. I can't remember the last time you actually left the apartment except to see your psychiatrist. All you do is sit in here and write and watch TV. There's a rumor going around that you're agoraphobic."

"Not agoraphobic. Just worried Tokui will appear and we won't be here," Yuki said softly, wrapping his arms around Shuichi's slender frame. "But now that you mention it, a vacation does sound like a good idea. Maybe after you get Amai's career going and we can get all of this straightened out with Tokui we can go someplace warm..."

Shuichi smiled at the thought. He couldn't remember the last time he was actually alone with Yuki. It would be nice to go into a hotel room on some warm, tropical beach and be able to just be alone without worrying about Tokui interrupting them or overhearing them...

"It's going to snow," Shuichi said suddenly, realizing this fact for the first time all day.

"That was a random thought," Yuki observed, running his hands through Shuichi's soft pink hair. "Did you get a haircut?"

"Yeah, Hiro took me today. He said I looked like a bum," Shuichi confirmed. "But I said that about the snow because I know how much you love snow and we can't leave just when winter is starting."

"You don't like snow," Yuki pointed out.

"I have to. I love you, don't I?¹" Shuichi asked teasingly.

"Yes, you do, for some unfathomable reason."

"And you love me back?"

"Don't push it."

"Simple yes or no. You don't actually have to say it."

"No."

"No, you don't love me, or no, you won't answer that?"

"No, I don't need to constantly reassure you of my feelings for you. If I didn't feel the same about you as you do about me would I have tolerated you for seventeen years?"

"'Tolerated'," Shuichi parrotted with a snort. "Nice of you to talk about me that way."

"Well, regardless of what anyone feels about you, what it boils down to is if they can tolerate your boundless energy or not. If it's one thing I've learned from being with you, it's that I have far more patience than I thought I did."

Shuichi smiled and lifted his head, meeting Yuki's lips. Yuki was caught a bit off guard by the sudden gesture, but wrapped his arms around his lover as he leaned into the kiss, immediately assuming control as he forced his tongue into the other man's mouth with little resistance. A first their tongues slid against each other is a slow and obviously practiced dance, but within moments the kiss escalated as their hands began to run over each other, each one fighting with the other's clothes to try to find some way of reaching the naked skin underneath.

Just as Shuichi managed to get his only hand up the front of Yuki's shirt a knock on the door stopped them both dead.

Yuki broked the kiss roughly and shouted, with unconcealed anger and annoyance, "Who is it!"

"It's me, Eiri-san," came Touma's voice from the other side.

Shuichi quickly stood up from his lover's lap, only thankful that his boss hadn't whitnessed the previous scene between the two. The platinum blonde man hated him and his relationship with Yuki enough without having it thrown in his face, and after what he had done to Hiro, Shuichi really wasn't in the mood to test him.

"Just a second," Yuki muttered, standing up and punching the code into the new security system he'd had installed. As soon as the beep signalled he had successfully deactivated it he turned back around and walked into the living room, once again sitting in his chair as Shuichi sat on the couch. "Okay. It's open."

The door opened, and Touma walked in, followed closely by Amai, who, in turn, was dragging Tokui behind her. Though Shuichi worked with Amai on a daily basis and liked her well enough, he never failed to get a slight chill when he saw the girl and her father standing next to each other. He always felt it was like looking into some kind of twisted mirror.

"He's all yours!" Amai announced, giving Tokui a slight shove into the apartment. Tokui lost his balance and began to fall, but Touma grabbed his shoulder to steady him before he could.

With his hand still on his son's shoulder, Touma sighed. "Mika and I discussed this. Though we wish there was another solution, we really can't see one that would work. So we agreed that your plan is the best course of action. As soon as you are able to take him, he'll be staying here with you."

"We can take him now," Yuki announced.

"Where's he sleeping?" Amai asked, looking around her uncle's apartment. Having grown up spending most of her time with her father, Amai had never gotten as close to her uncle and his lover as her brother had.

Yuki shrugged. "Wherever he wants. He usually takes the couch when he stays here, but there's an almost empty walk-in closet in my office if he wants somewhere smaller and more private. Just have to move a few boxes of printer paper and ink cartridges into a corner and you're good to go."

Tokui nodded and walked in the direction of said area of the house, Amai close behind him, mostly curious to see her uncle's office but partially because she wanted to see her brother's new "room".

"You're really going to encourage this?" Touma asked, his face neutral but the edge in his voice suggesting he was less than pleased with this descision.

"I'm not encouraging it. It's just that he's done this all of his life. I can't miraculously break him of it in one day," Yuki argued, knowing that Touma didn't like to argue with him.

Touma just sighed, his face taking on a resigned expression that Shuichi had never seen him wear. "Whatever you say. You're the one who is going to save him, not me. Just know that if he needs anything, please call me and ask."

Yuki nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Amai looked around the closet. It was exactly what Yuki had said it was: plain white with a beige carpet and curtain rods going around the perimeter except for where the door was and a single shelf going along the top above the curtain rod. There were a few boxes on the floor, which Amai had put on the top shelf for her brother. It was considerably brighter than Tokui's converted laundry room at Mika's house and pantry at Touma's, and slightly bigger, big enough to hold a small bed and a stand, precisely what Tokui owned. (His bookshelf wouldn't be a loss, as he kept most of his books in boxes on his floor, anyway.)

The room Yuki Eiri used as an office was actually a second bedroom, converted into a workspace when Yuki had moved in, hence the closet was designed for clothes and shoes, not for supplies and certainly not to be used as a bedroom for a teenage boy. But Tokui seemed to be in heaven in here: not only was it small and enclosed, but also joined to his mentor's work area, where the man wrote the books that Tokui admired so much. Perhaps his uncle's creativity would reach him in this place...

"Well, it's an improvement over what you have at Kaasan and Tousan's houses," Amai assessed with a nod. "At least it's brighter in here." Amai turned and faced her brother, who was still leaning against the door frame. "Well, baby brother, this is it. We are officially not living together anymore. Feels kind of weird, doesn't it?"

Tokui shrugged. "We never really 'lived together', anyway. You spent most of your time with Tousan or at NG and I spent most of my time here or at Kaasan's. And why do you always call me 'baby brother'? You're only seven minutes older."

"I mean we lived together in theory. Now you don't officially live with Kaasan or Tousan, and that's weird. So you want us to send your stuff over?"

Tokui nodded, taking off his necklace and taking off two keys, handing them to his sister, as that was why she had asked him that question.

"Don't worry, baby brother. I'll make sure no one picks through your stuff. Sure you don't want to come home and get the real private stuff first?" Amai asked, pocketing the keys.

Tokui shook his head. "Everything private I have I keep on me at all times."

Amai ruffled her brother's hair. "Smart boy!" She then watched Tokui as he tried to straighten his hair out again, laughing. "You just have to be so adorable, don't you?"

"Is Tousan still talking to Eiri-ojisan?" Tokui asked, ignoring his sister's comments.

"Probably. If he was done he'd have called for me," Amai answered, though she turned to leave, taking the hint. "I'll be back soon with your stuff, baby brother! Stay adorable!"

Amai left the closet then, shutting the door behind her and stepping into her uncle's office. Yuki had never been very big on interior design, choosing furniture and household items based on their practicality, not their style. And his office was no exception, as it only had some bookshelves (with both books and supplies on them), his desk, and two chairs behind it: one a large desk chair, and the other smaller, probably for Shuichi.

After spending only a few minutes to examine the office (as she didn't share her brother's admiration for thier uncle or his profession) she walked back out into the living room. Yuki had moved so he was sitting on the opposite end of the couch that Shuichi was sitting on, but so that he was still close to Touma, who was sitting in his chair.

"He's just getting settled in," Amai announced, leaning against the back of her father's chair. "I actually think he's happy here. Well, as happy as he gets, anyway."

"I was just telling you father about the Neo Grasper idea," Shuichi said, keeping his gaze fixed on the girl and not on the man beneath her. It was awkward enough that his boss, who had hated him for years, was a close personal friend of his lover, as well as the father of his beloved nephew, but his charge didn't have to look so much like him. That was just adding insult to injury.

"I made no promises about that," Amai said firmly. "I'll admit that it's a great idea, since the novelty alone will draw in extra revenue, but not only do I not want to work with Ukai Saki, but I also want to get famous by my own merits, not by cashing in on my father's name."

"That's my girl," Touma said proudly, listening to his daughter's buisness savvy and pride, both inherited from him.

"That's why we want you to do the solo album first," Shuichi explained. "Because if you establish yourself as a solo artist and then join a band, it means that you can make it on your own, you just choose not to. And it's been ten years since Nittle Grasper stopped touring. Adults will remember the original Grasper and might buy Neo Grasper albums for that reason, but we're dealing with a whole new demographic here. You're Seguchi Touma's daughter and you can't even remember Nittle Grasper's heyday. You weren't born before their first run and you were barely six when they stopped the second time. See what I'm getting at? Neo Grasper is, undoubtedly, a cool idea. But then there is the added bonus of having less competition. Right now, you are competing with Ukai Saki for record sales, and she currently has the advantage of having been established for three years now. Plus I just got word that Alexander Sakuma-Winchester wants to start recording albums, so he'll corner the American market. If we can get you all together in one place there would be no competetion: the three biggest acts will be in one place. No one else stands a chance."

Yuki, Amai, and Touma were all gaping at Shuichi and his uncharacteristic lapse of maturity. Shuichi looked around the room, then blushed and cleared his throat. "I've been a producer for five years. I had to have learned something."

Touma nodded. "Well, Shindou-san, it seems your friend sold you short.You really do have a head for buisness."

"Can we go, Tousan?" Amai asked. "I promised baby brother I'd pick up some stuff for him."

Touma gave Yuki one last longing look. "Yes, I suppose it is getting late. I'll see you again soon, Eiri-san. And Shindou-san, I want you to write a formal proposal for Neo Grasper and have it on my desk by tomorrow morning."

"Tousan, I'm not sure if I want to do it yet!" Amai said firmly. "Don't make him work if he doesn't have to!"

"I have to have it on file in case you do decide," Touma told her. He stood and walked toward the door. "Good night everyone."

Hiro had woke up the next morning telling himself today was going to be better. Now he wished he could just crawl back into bed and forget about the day all together.

The first sign that the day wasn't going to be what Hiro would have liked it was Shuichi was late. Three hours late. Hiro had had to wait in the living room, with Tokui tucked in the corner on the floor (no matter how many times Hiro told him he didn't have to sit there he wouldn't move to the couch) and Yuki sitting on the couch glaring at him (mostly because Hiro was sitting in his chair) while Shuichi finished typing a proposal for Touma (on Yuki's computer, as his had decided to crash this morning, which meant Yuki was in an even worse mood).

When Shuichi finally came rushing from the direction of the office, blue folder in hand, he was wearing one of Yuki's old plum colored suits with a burgundy tie draped around his neck. Hiro had had to help him tie his tie and help him into his jacket before Shuichi could put the folder into his briefcase, give Yuki a quick kiss on the cheek (he had aimed for the lips but Yuki, not being happy with him, had moved his head at the last second) and finally left, Tokui in tow.

After arriving at NG, it had been Shuichi's turn to brave his boss and Hiro's turn to head straight to a rehearsal room. And that was when the best part of the day had ended...

Hiro had opened the door to rehearsal room six, the room that he, Kyousei Himeko, and Chen Quon Yue had agreed they would meet each day the day before. After opening the door, Hiro actually groaned.

Sitting in a chair, feet kicked up on the table in front of him, was Chen Quon Yue, smoking a cigarette, with three butts still smoldering on the floor around him. His hair was in two pigtails, the silver and blue seperated so perfectly the only way Hiro could figure he had done it was that he had dyed his hair while it was in the pigtails, he'd had someone seperate it for him, or he had an inhuman amount of patience and a couple of mirrors. His jewelry was unchanged (except, possibly, his earrings, but Hiro wasn't sure as he hadn't really noticed them the first time he'd seen him), and he was wearing a dark blue T-shirt that was cut above his navel, revealing a silver hoop with a dark blue ball, and written on the shirt, in English, with white rhinestones, was "ANGEL". He was wearing faded blue, low-slung bell bottoms, black platform shoes with large silver buckles on the side of each one, a black belt with a silver buckle, and the newest addition to his collection of jewelry were four beaded bracelets in different shades of blue, black, and white on each wrist. His fingernails were painted light blue, and he was wearing dark eyeliner, light blue eyeshadow, and icy blue lipstick. He didn't seem to notice Hiro, even after he groaned, as he had a far-away look on his face, his eyes the same dark blue as his shirt, the pupil of his defective left one twitching slightly.

Hiro cleared his throat, trying to get the younger man's attention, but this also failed to get him from his trance. His cigarette was burning down, and would probably burn his fingers in a moment. Sighing, Hiro walked over to Quon Yue and tapped his shoulder.

This proved to be a big mistake, as Quon Yue whirled around, producing a switchblade seemingly from no where and aiming it at Hiro's throat so that the tip almost touched his neck, his eyes switching from dark blue to the same icy blue as his lips, the same icy blue his eyes had been the first time he had made eye contact with Hiro.

"No one touches me unless I say they can," he growled through clenched teeth, the pupil of his defective eye twitching madly. He took the knife from Hiro's throat, folding it and pocketing it again. Hiro audibly sighed with relief. He didn't know Quon Yue well enough to tell if he was capable of hurting another human being, but if he had to stake money on it he'd guess that he was. One thing was for sure: Hiro wasn't going to push it if this man was so sensitive about being touched.

Quon Yue dropped his cigarette to the floor and stepped on it, along with the other three, which had begun to burn through the carpet. He didn't make a motion to pick them up, though, and Hiro gritted his teeth, knowing Touma wouldn't be at all pleased when he found out. This building was No Smoking, for one thing, and he would have to replace the carpet.

"You're late, Mr. Suit," Quon Yue observed, eyes shifting to the bright blue that Hiro knew meant he was planning one of his evil plots. "Three and a half hours late."

"I had to pick someone up and he was running late," Hiro explained, though he didn't feel he owed him any kind of explanation. "You've been waiting here the entire time?"

"Life's too short to miss any of it by being late," Quon Yue explained, lighting another cigarette with a match from the box in his pocket. "That producer chick was here, but she excused herself and left about two hours ago. God knows where she went." He blew out the match and dropped it on the floor. Hiro noticed for the first time there were four other matches there already.

"I'm surprised you have a philosophy like that," Hiro mused. "You don't seem like the type to be bound by deadlines and appointments."

"Well, Mr. Suit, I'm just full of surprises. I'm suprised you didn't piss your expensive pants when I whipped out that knife," Quon Yue told him with a smile, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the ashes onto the floor.

The door opened again, and Hiro sighed with relief when he saw Kyousei Himeko walk in with two cups of coffee. He had a feeling she had left because she was afraid to be alone with Quon Yue and had hidden in the staff room downstairs until she saw him come in. He couldn't say he blamed her; considering what had just happened, he probably would have done the same thing in her situation.

"Good morning, Nakano-san," she said brightly, putting a cup of coffee in front of him. "It is still morning, right?"

Hiro looked at his watch. "For another hour and a half, yes."

"Wonderful. That's enough time to pack up and leave," Quon Yue muttered, rolling his eyes, which were now a stormy blue-gray color.

"No one is using this room for the rest of the day, and I have no where else to be," Hiro told him firmly. "We can stay here all night if we want to."

"Fine. I'm game," Quon Yue said evenly, calling his bluff. He dropped his cigarette and stepped on it.

"First things first: those clothes. Unless that's your image, you can't do that anymore," Hiro continued.

Quon Yue sighed, the icy blue color returning to his eyes. "You're a manager, not an image consultant. I have a gimmick planned. I have songs ready. I know what image I want. I can handle it. You get me the gigs, you make me famous. I know that you have a deal with Seguchi and I know you just want me to get famous so you can move on because you don't like me. Frankly, I don't like you, either. So let me do all the hard stuff, and you do the rest. Got it?"

Both Hiro and Himeko were taken aback by this. They had expected him to fight them every step of the way, but he actually seemed to want to make things easier on them.

Hiro locked his eyes on the younger man's, which were still icy blue and not at all friendly looking. They seemed to be engaging in a staring contest, Quon Yue not blinking, the center of his defective left eye twitching ever so slightly. Finally, Hiro looked down at his briefcase and sighed. "You're right. I get you the gigs, Kyousei-san handles the financial end, you do the work. So as soon as you're ready to record-"

"I need a band," Quon Yue snapped. "A session band. I want to be a solo artist."

"Seguchi-san has some session musicians on call. I'll tell him what you need."

"You do that, Mr. Suit. I'm going to lunch. Joi gin yan²," Quon Yue announced, standing and leaving the room.

Hiro looked across the room at Himeko, who was picking up cigarette butts and matches, though the damage was already done to the carpet.

"I don't think he's coming back. Not today, anyway," she said softly as she dropped the mess in her hand into the trashcan.

"Good. After the way he nearly killed me I need a night to recover," Hiro muttered, not bothering to conceal his hatred for this man.

"Maybe we're not giving him a chance," Himeko pointed out. "We are both judging him by how he looks. We don't really know all that much about him."

"The guy carries around a knife and aims at the throat of anyone who touches him. That tells me a lot," Hiro argued, rubbing the front of his neck for effect.

Himeko shrugged and picked up her briefcase. "I think I am going to go out for lunch, too. Care to join me?"

"Might as well. Not like I have anything else to do."

Shuichi wasn't having much luck in his own endevor as he grasped his folder, waiting for his boss to get off the phone. At first, he wasn't sure who the other man was speaking to or what about, but after a few moments the details started to come together.

When he'd first walked into the room, Touma wasn't on the phone, but it had rung before Shuichi could hand over the folder, prompting Touma to make a gesture that implied that he wanted him to wait before he picked up, his face a perfect mask of false innocence and warmth.

"Moshi moshi. This is Seguchi Touma speaking." Touma paused to listen, his façade disappearing as who was on the other line spoke to him. "How much do you need?" Another pause. "For what?" Pause. "No, not again. That's what you told me the last time. I want to trust you this time, but I am not going to be made a fool of by you again." Pause. "Suguru, I said no. You've been saying that for three years. I just can't trust you anymore." Pause. "Suguru, the only way I will give you that money is if you move to Japan so I can watch you and make sure you keep your word." Pause. "Don't tell me that. I know you are coming to Japan for my wedding. Just pack your stuff and move here entirely. I can make sure you get into the best rehab center in the country. I'll pay for that, Suguru, but I'm not going to pay for your drugs under the pretense you are entering rehab in America. I am sick of you using the fact that you are all the way in Los Angeles where I can't see you to take advantage of me." Pause. "You're in New York now! When did this happen?" Pause. "Yes, I believe you went there to get away from your Los Angeles life, but I still don't trust you. You can start over a thousand times, but unless you do it in Japan you aren't going to do it with my money." Pause. "Yes, we are family, Suguru. That's why you should have more shame than you do. You are constantly lying to me and abusing my good will. I can only do that so many times before I put my foot down. If I were really to do you a favor I'd get on a plane and drag you here against your will." Pause. "No, Suguru, no. For the last time, no. Look, I'll wire you enough money for a plane ticket. A one way ticket. If you are not at my wedding then I will personally fly to New York and talk to every drug dealer and junky until I find you and drag you back here. And don't think I won't. I'll get the police involved if I have to. I'll hire private investigators. I want to see you get better, Suguru. Not worse." Pause. "Fine. I'll see you then. And I mean it: I had better. I will not be pleased if I have to postpone my honeymoon to go looking for you. For God's sake, you're 32 years old and you're an intelligent man. You could have done so much with your life. You still can. If you can clean up your act I'll give you a job. That's the deal. Now, I have important buisness to attend to." Pause. "No, Suguru. Just for the plane ticket. If you're in trouble then coming to Japan will be the best thing for you. Good bye."

Touma hung up the phone before Suguru could say anything else and looked up at Shuichi, adopting his fake smile again. "All right, Shindou-san. Do you have the proposal?"

"Yeah, it's here," Shuichi said quickly after shaking his head to break the trance the phone call had put him in. He handed Touma the folder.

Touma leaned back in his chair as he read the contents of it, nodding occasionally and rocking slightly. Finally, he leaned over his desk and put the folder down. "Yes, very nice work, Shindou-san. From the typographical errors it's easy to tell you rushed it a bit, and you still have that same horrible signature³, but I can read it and I certainly like what I see. I will file it immediately for when Amai is ready to form Neo Grasper."

"Amai said she doesn't know if she wants to go through with the Neo Grasper idea," Shuichi argued.

"She says that now, but when she releases her solo album she'll change her tune, no pun intended. I am positive of it. She is only saying that because she likes to be difficult and she wants to sound like she doesn't need anyone. She knows that Neo Grasper is just too good an idea to let slip away."

"With all due respect, Seguchi-san, I think you're wrong. She likes the creative freedom of being a solo artist too much and hates Ukai Saki too much to want to form a band with her. The only way I could convince her to consider it was when I brought up you were the leader of Nittle Grasper and she would probably have the same position in Neo Grasper."

Touma leaned back in his chair again. "Yes, that does sound like her. Really, she doesn't know Ukai Saki well enough to dislike her. She just resents that she got to record an album three years ago while she still had to wait. Once she gets this solo career buisness out of her system she'll be ready to join a band. We are both very much alike in that we are both willing to put our personal feelings aside for buisness."

Shuichi bowed slightly. "If you say so, Seguchi-san." And with that he turned on his heel and left the office.

As soon as he was gone, Touma pressed the button that activated his intercom again. "Sako, I'm ready to see Sakano-san now."

End of Chapter Three

¹ This is a play on words. "Yuki" is the Japanese word for "snow".

² "Good bye people" in Chinese (Cantonese).

³ In the manga, when Ryuuichi and Shuichi are comparing handwriting, it's said that both of them have poor signatures because of their bad handwriting and because neither one can write in kanji.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Lost and Found

Written by A Girl Named Goo

Talking to Kyousei Himeko proved to be the conversational equivilant of sitting in on a lecture given by an expert in a field you have no interest in: it was occasionally interesting, definately better than sitting home alone doing nothing, but when it was over you couldn't remember anything that was said and you were sure you didn't want to repeat the experience.

Not that Hiro found the woman unpleasant. She was certainly friendly enough, and reasonably intelligent. But if you steered the conversation away from something other than work she tended to be quiet except for a few monosyllabic words of agreement and become rather distant. Hiro wasn't used to carrying a conversation on his own, having been best friends with a very talkative man for many years, hence he tried to bring up work more often. It was that, or ask her short-answer questions, from which he had only gathered that she wasn't married, had no children, had three older sisters and a younger brother, liked cats (but wasn't fanatical about them) and had majored in buisness management in college, graduating top in her class.

About the only thing about Kyousei Himeko that left Hiro relieved was that while she was an obvious workaholic, she didn't have the same stress-management problem that Sakano had always suffered from. She also had a birdlike appitite, only taking three bites of her salad during the entire conversation. And her face always seemed to be very sympathetic, though Hiro wasn't sure what he had said or done to earn her sympathy.

Hiro stood up, picking up the tray containing his trash. "If you don't mind, I think I am going to call it a day. If you'll let me pay-"

"Oh, no," Himeko interrupted. "This was my idea, so my treat."

Hiro didn't argue. Though he was a gentleman, he was never one to turn down a free meal, either. Besides, fighting over something like that was a futile gesture, at best. And at worst he would end up paying for both meals.

He pushed open the doors to the exit, stepping out into the chilly afternoon. The air smelled of coming snow, and the wind stung his cheeks slightly, causing him to dart over to his car door as quickly as possible. He was about to open the door when a voice stopped him dead.

"Nakano-san?"

Hiro turned around. Standing in front of him was a middle-aged woman, with a trim figure and rather flat chest. Her hair was short, almost the same style as Kyousei Himeko's, and dark blue with touches of gray. Her outfit was a perfect copy of Himeko's, only her jacket and skirt were black, as were her shoes, and her tie was green. She was also wearing glasses with thick frames over her dark eyes. Had Hiro not known better, he would have mistook her for being one of Himeko's sisters or classmates.

"Sakano-san?" Hiro asked, turning around and leaning against his car. "What are you doing here?"

The woman, formerlly known as Bad Luck producer Sakano Issei, now known as Sakano Ayame, just laughed slightly. "Nice way to say hi to your former producer, Nakano-san," she said teasingly. "I was waiting for Tou- ah, Seguchi-san. We were supposed to meet at the restaraunt next door for dinner, but he got held up at work. Since the reservation is in his name I can't go in until he gets here."

"Well, instead of freezing to death why don't you get in the car and wait with the heat on," he offered, pointing to his car.

Sakano nodded and walked around to the other side of the car, climbing in as Hiro got in on his side. He started the car and turned on the heat, then turned and looked at her. "So besides being forced to wait out in the cold for your fiancée, how are things going?"

She shrugged. "As well as one can imagine. Except my future stepdaughter doesn't seem all too pleased with the prospect of me marrying her father. I can't tell if it's because of her mother or because she knows I used to be a man and she doesn't think her father should marry someone like that."

Hiro nodded. "Amai is like that. I don't think it's because of her mother or because of your operation. She's just used to having her father all to herself. Not even her brother had that much interest in him. Now she has to share his affections with you."

Sakano sighed. "I just want her to like me. That's all. Is there anything I can do to make her like me?"

Hiro leaned against the steering wheel, giving this serious consideration. "What you have to understand about Amai is that she is like her father in a lot of positive ways. She looks like him for one, she is very smart with a great head for buisness, she's a hard worker and she isn't afraid to fight for what she wants, and music-wise she is multi-talented. But she's also like him in a lot of negative ways. She will do anything for what she wants, even resort to some ruthless and underhanded tricks. She can be very cunning and manipulative. And she has a bit of a jealous streak to be wary of. And then there are the traits that she has that are uniquely her, the few things she probably gets from her mother. She is very stubborn, she doesn't like to be told she is wrong, and she can be a spoiled brat at times. It's that last thing and her jealous streak that makes her not like you. All of her life it's been her and Seguchi-san. Seguchi-san has given her everything she has ever wanted or needed, both material and emotional. She has had his undivided attention all of her life as well. He has really spoiled her rotten. And then you come along, and suddenly she feels threatened. She's been the only one he cares about, and now she feels she has to compete with you. And trust me: when you force Amai into any kind of competition, she plays to win."

"So there's no hope?" she asked.

"I am not saying there's no hope. Maybe when she realizes there's no way Seguchi-san is going to back out of this marriage and how much he loves you she'll grow up and be willing to share. Or maybe you should tell Seguchi-san how you feel so he can talk to her. She thinks he's a god, after all. If he tells her to jump, she asks how high. So it's logical to assume if he tells her to behave herself and stop acting like a spoiled little girl then she will. And even if Amai does try to fight him on it, consider who she is going to be arguing against. Even I'd back down in an arguement with Seguchi-san. Though I would like to see an arguement between those two, since if it's anyone who can match wits against Seguchi Touma it'd be his own daughter."

There was silence for a few moments in the car. Sakano adjusted the heat to keep herself amused, and Hiro looked out the window, hoping to see his boss somewhere.

"You're not worried about Tokui?" Hiro asked at last.

"Well...no, not really," Sakano said, though her voice suggested otherwise. "He doesn't have much to do with his father, anyway, so I'll probably never see him. And between you and me, Seguchi-san is actually uncomfortable around him. But don't tell him I told you that. About the only people who have anything to do with him are Amai and Yuki-san. And Shindou-san, of course."

"Why would Seguchi-san feel uncomfortable around Tokui?" Hiro asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. If it was one thing Seguchi Touma was famous for, it was that he was fearless, and could at least create the illusion of being at ease in any situation. "I mean, he's a little strange, but he's a good boy. Anyone who has been able to talk to him can tell you he's very sweet and gentle and downright adorable, he just doesn't value himself very much and thinks that people are wasting their time talking to him."

Sakano shook her head. "Seguchi-san doesn't like how quiet he is. And when he sees him, he feels like he did something wrong somehow. And not only that, but he looks just like Yuki Eiri did when he was sixteen, and that makes him both very sad and very unnerved."

Just as the first flakes of snow began to fall, both Hiro and Sakano noticed a black BMW pull up in front of them, and from it came Seguchi Touma.

"Thanks for letting me warm up in here," Sakano said, smiling warmly. "You're coming to the wedding, right?"

"Actually, I wasn't invited," Hiro confessed.

"Then you are now. As my guest," she told him. "I'll see you soon."

She shut the door, and Hiro watched her join her fiancée and walk with him into the restaraunt before he put his car in gear and prepared to drive back to his apartment.

"Let me get this straight..." Yuki said, shock and disbelief on his face as he stared at the woman in front of him. "Tokui is like this because of what happened to me when I was sixteen?"

"In a sense, yes," she said. "Yuki-san, I have treated you for years. Have I ever lied to you?"

Yuki shook his head, putting his forehead in his hand. The woman in front of him was his own personal psychiatrist. He had brought Tokui to her because she was the only one he knew and trusted, hoping she would treat him as well or, at the very least, recommend someone who could. "But...Dr. Mitsuri, how the hell is that possible?"

Dr. Mitsuri looked down at the book in front of her and sighed. "When children are born, they are like empty books. It's up to the adults around them to fill that book. For about the first 12 years of a child's life they do nothing but absorb. They take in the thoughts, feelings, and actions of those around them. They take to memory what they are told. Tokui is a very empathetic boy- that is, he feels what others are feeling. And you practically radiate pain. He idolizes you, so he's grown up observing you and taking in what you say and do and feel. He doesn't know what happened to you exactly, but he acts like someone who has endured the same experience as you. Think of when you were sixteen, when it first happened. How did you act? You were probably pretty quiet and withdrawn before you became so cold."

"But why me? Shuichi's had some pretty nasty experiences in his past and he's always near him. Why couldn't he absorb his feelings instead?" Yuki further inquired.

"Because he doesn't feel as close to Shuichi as he does to you. Think of when you were in school as a child and how other children treated you because of how you look. Now think of when Tokui tried school. It never occured to him he looked different before then because he'd grown up near you, just like you didn't know because your family never told you. He doesn't get along with his parents just like you never got along with yours. He wants to be a writer, you are a writer. You are his role model, his mentor. You raised him, you cared for him. His parents might have handled the financial and technical aspects, but you were there emotionally. He associates with you, and as a result he associates with your emotions. And there are only two solutions to that problem, and neither of them are nearly as simple as they sound: either he stays away from you for a while and develops his own feelings and personality, or you start to make progress so he can sense it. With Shuichi you made tremendous amounts of progress, but you still have all of the symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'll leave it up to you which method you choose. The first could compromise his physical health, but the second could be emotionally difficult for the both of you. If you choose the second, I advise you tell him about what happened. I also think, under the circumstances, you should be treated together. So come in at your usual time next week, but bring him with you. I'll also schedule individual sessions for him on Wednesday and you on Thursday, since a few of my patients are no longer in my care. And I'll also prescribe some anti-depressents and sleeping pills for him, but monitor him when he takes them. With his health problems and food and drug allergies they could harm him or they might not react well with his other medications."

Yuki thought about this hard. "Doctor, can you help him?"

The psychiatrist sighed again. "I don't specialize in children, and honestly I don't know. If he doesn't open up then it's possible he never will get better, and if he doesn't get better he'll only get worse. I think there is more that he is not telling anyone, and I was only able to form my diagnosis based on what he would tell me. His preference for small spaces, severe aversion to other people, secretive nature, and phobia of elevators are all things that I can't explain yet, and I can't treat them unless I can explain them. But they are all very alarming symptoms. They suggest he's endured some kind of trauma, especially when his phobias are so specific. He's hiding something, and I am afraid that if we can't figure out what it is then he'll have a breakdown and end up being institutionalized."

Yuki just nodded dumbly and took the slips of paper Dr. Mitsuri offered (one with a prescription and one with the times and dates of the appointments), standing up and leaving the office. Tokui was in the waiting room, having been unable to run because Yuki had instructed the receptionist to keep an eye on him and not let him go anywhere, not even to the bathroom, unless she accompanied him.

"Come on, Tokui," Yuki said, his voice sounding more harsh than he meant it to. Tokui rose from his seat obediently, falling into step behind his uncle..

It was already dark and snowing hard when Shuichi came home. He didn't look pleased, but he wasn't in as bad a mood as he had been the day before, either. He scanned the living room for any signs of life. The light over the sink was on, but the TV was off, and Shuichi had seen Yuki's car parked outside so he knew that he was home.

Shuichi's first instinct was to walk into Yuki's office. The light was off in there, but the light in the closet was on, suggesting Tokui was home. Leaving the office, he walked into their bedroom. The light was off in there, too, but in the dim light from the street lights Shuichi could see a sillouhette on the bed. Shuichi sat on the edge of the bed, knowing Yuki couldn't be asleep because he was laying on his back.

"It's snowing hard outside," Shuichi said softly. "I thought for sure you'd be on the balcony watching it."

"I was for a little while," Yuki confessed. "I was talking to Tokui."

Shuichi laid down next to Yuki, wrapping his arm around him. Ordinarilly he would have told Shuichi to go away because he needed to be alone, but much to his own surprise having Shuichi against him seemed to be just what he needed.

"Bad day?" Shuichi asked, rubbing Yuki's bare chest a little and kissing his shoulder lightly.

"That's an understatement," was the solemn reply. "I took Tokui to my psychiatrist today."

"And what did she say?"

Yuki swallowed, hoping Shuichi wouldn't hear the tears in his voice. "She said that the reason Tokui acts the way that he does is because of me. Or, to be more accurate, because of what happened to me when I was 16."

"But how can he possibly know what happened to you?"

"He doesn't. He just feels it. He feels what others feel, apparently, and because he thinks so highly of me he feels my emotions the most. She also says that he's endured some kind of trauma of his own that he's hiding, because of how specific his phobias are. And if we can't figure out what they are then he'll eventually have a breakdown and have to be institutionalized."

Shuichi took Yuki's hand in his own. "We won't let that happen though, will we? I mean, we've been through a lot. We can make it through this, too."

Yuki readjusted his hand so that he was holding Shuichi's instead of the other way around. "I don't know, Shuichi. I really don't. I want to agree, but I'm not an optimist like you. For Tokui's sake, I have to say I believe that. And I am sure as hell going to do what I can in the meantime to keep that from happening."

For a long time there was only silence, Shuichi curled up against Yuki, and Yuki looking out the sliding glass doors in his bedroom outside at the snow falling past the streetlights. When he finally realized how much time had gone by, he looked down at his smaller lover curled up against his body. The other man was fast asleep already, and though Yuki ordinarilly would have woke him up long enough to get him to move over to his own side of the bed, he lacked the heart on this night. Sighing, he began to run his fingers through Shuichi's strawberry-scented pink locks, half expecting him to start purring (and finding himself a little disappointed, much to his own surprise, when he didn't).

Yuki reached over to his nightstand long enough to fumble with a bottle and, squinting to read it (both from absence of light and absence of his reading glasses) finally opened it and took a pill out of it, swallowing it without anything to wash it down, then laid back and waited for the sleeping pill to take effect, a little uncomfortable because he wasn't lying on his stomach.

What Yuki didn't know was that everything he had said and done was being watched by a pair of large, golden eyes looking in from the still-open bedroom door...

"Why are we here and not in the studio? We've only recorded three tracks." Quon Yue asked, his icy tone matching the color of his eyes. He currently had his left hand flat on the solid oak table of the rehearsal room, his knife in his right hand, trying to see how quickly he could stab between his fingers. So far he had nicked his fingers eight times and caused serious damage to the surface of the expensive table, as well as staining the front of his white T-shirt. He was sans make-up today, wearing his hair in a loose ponytail, a white T-shirt, a black vest, black shoes, and blue jeans. Again, his jewelry was unchanged, and Hiro wondered if he ever took it off.

"Only..." Hiro muttered, but loudly he said, "We've been working for five and a half hours straight. While I commend you for your work ethic, give the poor session musicians a chance to recover. Besides, everyone's gone home now. I don't even know what we're still doing here."

Quon Yue nicked his index finger again, but didn't seem to notice as he kept moving the knife between his fingers, faster than ever now, and closer to the webs of them. "Where did the producer chick go?"

"After the recording session was over she said she had another appointment," Hiro explained, watching him move the knife. "And could you please quit that! You're ruining the table! As it is I already had to pay for Seguchi-san's new carpet because you ruined the old one! I was nice last time, but this time I won't hesitate to send the bill your way!"

Quon Yue's eyes turned that mischevious bright blue again. "Whatever you say, Mr. Suit," he said with a grin that made Hiro grit his teeth as he folded his knife and pocketed it. "Though I imagine you have money to spare on little things like a new table or a new carpet."

"You assume wrong. How much money do you think I make?" Hiro snapped, losing his patience.

"From this job? Close to jack shit. But don't think I don't know who you really are," Quon Yue said tauntingly.

"Oh? And who am I really?"

"You are the Nakano Hiroshi, a.k.a. Hiro from Bad Luck."

"I didn't think that was a big secret."

Quon Yue leaned back, putting his feet up on the table and ignoring the scrapes and blood on it. "Why don't you play the guitar anymore, Mr. Suit?" He took his knife out of his pocket and began to clean under his black-painted fingernails with the blade.

"I outgrew that phase of my life. Moved on," Hiro said, though his voice lacked the confidence he was hoping for as he found he was asking himself the same question. The first time he has threatened to quit guitar was because of his studies, and the next time because of Ayaka, but he had never actually done it either of those times. So why did he think that because he wasn't touring with Bad Luck anymore it meant he couldn't ride his motorcycle or play his guitar? And if he had really put them away for good, how come he put them in storage instead of selling them? There seemed to be no logic in that...

"You don't sound so sure, Mr. Suit," Quon Yue taunted. "Now, there's something I've been dying to know ever since I first saw you guys when I was a kid."

"You're a Bad Luck fan?" Hiro asked skeptically.

"I was. How could I not be? Your music was playing every minute of every day. It was inescapable. But I digress." Quon Yue put his knife away and put a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it with a match. Before he could drop it, Hiro walked across the room and took it, dropping it in the trashcan. "Anyway, you know the little pink-haired guy in your band? The singer?"

"Yeah. He's only my best friend," Hiro muttered, as if it was obvious.

"Did you and him ever fuck?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Get it on. Do the horizontal mambo. Have sex. Whatever."

Hiro tried to hide his rage. "Why the hell do you want to know?"

"It's just bugging me."

Hiro sighed. "Yeah, we did a few times on tour, before I started dating the keyboardist. Happy?"

"Very," Quon Yue said with a nod, taking a drag from his cigarette but, thankfully, flicking the ashes into his hand. "Now that I see how tall you are, though, I'll bet he's just a little thing. How little is he?"

"Dammit, why are you so concerned with Shuichi? He's short and skinny and has one arm, all right? He works here, you know. I'm surprised you haven't run into him yet."

"Really?" he asked, brightening considerably. "Is he still here?"

"At eleven at night? Hell, I don't even think Seguchi-san is still here." Hiro looked out the window. It had been snowing when he had pulled in that morning, but what he saw now nearly made him faint: an all-out blizzard.

"By any chance, have you noticed the weather?" Hiro asked, trying to sound calm.

Quon Yue looked out the window, his eyes briefly turning violet. Suddenly, they turned bright blue as he turned and looked at Hiro. "Looks like we're stuck, Nakano-san."

"You wanted to see me, Tousan?" Amai asked, walking into her father's home office.

Touma, though wearing his dark green silk pajamas and a housecoat and slippers, still looked poised and professional sitting behind his desk, pen in hand and reading glasses alighting his face. His daughter was also dressed for bed, in a mint green-colored lacy nightgown and hunter green housecoat and slippers similar to her father's.

"Yes, Amai, I did," Touma said, his tone grave. "Sakano-san told me something that upset me a great deal."

"And this has to do with me why?" Amai asked, leaning in the doorway, not the least bit afraid of her father.

Touma sighed. "She's convinced you don't like her."

"Well, I don't," Amai pointed out. No sense in hiding anything from her father.

"Why not?" Touma asked, his voice even, though Amai wasn't fooled by his calm ruse. She knew when he was angry.

"She's all wrong for you. For one thing, she is actually a he-"

"We went over this, Amai. She used to be a man. But she isn't now."

"She still has all the important parts that make her a him."

"She's going to have that taken care of. After the wedding."

"And notice how she wants to wait until after she marries a rich, good looking guy to finish getting an expensive and elective operation. She only wants you for your money, Tousan."

"I've known her longer than I've known you, Amai. I know that she isn't like that. She had the operation because before it she was a nervous wreck. And she wasn't happy with herself. Now she is. It was my choice to get married before her last operation, not hers."

"Well, you're Scorpio and she's a Virgo. Not a good match. Virgos tend to rely on Scorpios for too much, and that drives Scorpios away. That won't work."

Touma sighed and rolled his eyes. "Forgive me for not consulting the stars on who I should marry. Amai, you know I don't believe in all that astrology buisness."

"You should. You're an almost stereotypical Scorpio."

"Either way, I am not going to call off my marriage because my sixteen year old daughter told me that the stars say we shouldn't be together. Besides, isn't your brother a Virgo?"

"Yes, he is, but-"

"And you're a Leo, which, if I am not mistaken, doesn't work well with either Scorpio or Virgo. Yet you still love me and your brother, correct?"

"Yes, I do, but-"

Touma swiveled in his chair to look out the large picture window at the blizzard, thankful for the fireplace on the other side of the room. "Amai, I love you. A lot. And you will always be my first priority. But I also love Ayame a great deal. And I really don't want to have to choose between you. Don't make me do that, Amai, because I don't want to lose either one of you. Yes, my attention and affection will be divided, but we've been dating for years. The only difference will be that she will be living here with us. You're already used to having to split my affection with her. Do you see what I am getting at here? I am not choosing between you. You'll just have to learn to share. Ayame never did anything to you except try to get you to like her, and she shouldn't be punished for it."

Amai sighed, knowing she was beaten. "Yes, sir."

"And speaking of sharing, have you given the Neo Grasper idea any thought?" he asked suddenly, swiveling back around to face her.

Amai shrugged. "Do you really want me to do it?"

"From both a financial and emotional standpoint, yes, I do think it would be best. I never persued a solo career for a reason, Amai. My days with Nittle Grasper were both the greatest and the hardest days of my life, but I'd never trade that experience for anything, and I knew that a solo career just wouldn't be like the band experience. If you are anything like me- which I do know that you are- then you will probably find the band experience to be much more rewarding than a solo career."

Amai just nodded. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, you may go. Oyasumi, Amai."

"Oyasumi!" she shouted as she ducked out of her father's office. Touma just sighed, shook his head, and returned to work.

End of Chapter Four


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Fire and Ice**

**Written by A Girl Named Goo**

Hiro had to admit that he'd never actually seen a person steal from a vending machine before. Of course, the reason was probably that he had never been snowbound in a major media corporation with a borderline psychotic Chinese singer with no change and nothing to eat or drink before. Neverless, it was a learning experience.

First, Quon Yue had tried to reach behind the machine. Finding this didn't work, he'd tried to slip his entire body in. Failing at that, he'd asked for Hiro's help in moving the soda machine from the wall. From there he'd taken his knife and, before Hiro could figure out what he had done, he had somehow rigged the machine up to dispense soda whenever they pushed a button, whether they put change in or not.

Hiro had helped him move a candy machine next and asked that he work a little slower so that he could watch. Quon Yue had done so, explaining his every move. Then, to see if Hiro had been paying attention, they moved another soda machine away from the wall, and Quon Yue reluctantly handed over his knife long enough for Hiro to cut the appropriate wires and rewire it. Though he knew what he was doing was both morally and legally wrong, it gave him a thrill to know he was cheating the system, and he held up his first free soda as if it were a trophy.

After they were finished robbing the vending machines (which Quon Yue had insisted on rewiring properly when they were done so that by the time their handiwork was discovered no one would be able to trace it to the two people who were stuck there for a night) they collected their small feast in junk food and caffinated beverages and headed back to the rehearsal room.

Quon Yue placed himself in the corner, folding his legs neatly so he was sitting in a lotus position, his eyes turning dark blue as he stared off into space, nibbling a chocolate bar. Hiro sat down at the table, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket and tie before settling down to his own food.

"So where'd you learn a trick like that?" Hiro asked, if for no reason other than to break the silence.

Quon Yue seemed startled at this. Then he smiled, his eyes taking on that bright blue color that made Hiro's already apparent unease of the situation grow. "Relax, Mr. Suit. I steal a candy bar or a soda now and then when no one's looking. I don't knock over banks or anything like that."

"I didn't say you did. I just want to know where you learned how to do it," Hiro repeated.

Quon Yue shrugged, licking the chocolate off of his fingers and depositing the wrapper in the trashcan he was leaning against. "When I was eleven I saw a couple of older kids trying to do it without moving the machine. They saw me and gave me a knife and told me that I had little arms, and that they'd kick the shit out of me if I didn't do what they said. Then they gave me the instructions. I had a black eye and a fat lip before I finally got it right, and I've just never forgotten."

Hiro nodded slowly, taking a drink from the soda he had managed to filch himself. Suddenly he didn't seem so proud of what he had done...

Quon Yue stood up and left the room. When he came back, he was holding an acoustic guitar, obviously found in a supply room or in the recording studio, left by a session guitarist.

"Play," he ordered, thrusting the thing in Hiro's direction.

"Excuse me?" Hiro asked, taken off guard. He took the instrument, but didn't even put the strap on, much less play it. "Why should I do something just because you told me to?"

Quon Yue rolled his eyes, which were now the annoyed stormy blue-gray color. "I am not ordering you to do it because I want you to, jackass. You didn't give me a good reason for quitting guitar, and you didn't even believe your own crappy excuse. Therefore, there is no excuse. I know you have talent, and there's no sense in letting it go to waste. Now play."

Hiro wanted to tell the younger man to go to hell, but he knew he couldn't argue with the logic. Besides, what could a few fingering excercises hurt? It wasn't like he would be playing actual music...

Hesitantly, he put the strap over his neck. Annoyed that his ponytail holder was in the way, he took it out, shaking his hair loose (something else he hadn't done in public in years). Then, taking the pick that Quon Yue offered, he began to play, at first just trying to reacquaint himself with the chords and the fingering that went with them. But he was surprised when songs he hadn't played in years began to flow out. Even more surprising was that Quon Yue was only sitting in his corner, watching him with rapt attention, his eyes a curious sky blue color that Hiro had never seen. That alone was enough to make Hiro miss one note, and he stopped playing, cursing himself, both for losing his concentration and the resulting mistake, and for letting himself get so out of practice.

"Very nice," Quon Yue praised, though Hiro couldn't tell if he was being sincere. "You only missed one note. Not bad at all for someone who hasn't played in years, anyway."

"You seem to know a lot about it. Do you play?" Hiro asked, taking off the guitar and offering it to Quon Yue, only to be refused and mocked by bright blue eyes.

"I played a lot of instruments. Piano, guitar, drums, trumpet, flute, clarinet...I had a lot of free time on my hands as a kid," Quon Yue told him with a shrug. He lit another cigarette, blowing out the match and throwing it into the trashcan. Hiro noticed that he didn't seem to be bragging. He also spoke in the past tense.

"'Played'? Why don't you play anymore?" Hiro asked.

Quon Yue held up his left hand. The nicks and cuts on it had already scabbed over, but with his pale skin it looked ghastly. "No feeling in my hands. Not since I was twelve, anyway. A major nerve was severed in each one or some shit like that, I wasn't paying attention. But it is very hard to work on activities that require your fingering to be _just so_ when you can't even feel your hands at the ends of your arms. As it stands I can barely perform simple tasks, like holding a cigarette, writing my name, or opening a can of soda. That's also why I play the knife games. To try to develop my hand-eye cooridination and because it tends to gross people out when I miss."

Hiro flinched and refrained from asking what had happened to make him lose feeling in his hands. Quon Yue used the lip of the trashcan to snuff out his cigarette, letting it fall in. Then he removed his own ponytail holder and vest, throwing them in a corner.

"Well, we're stuck here. Might as well settle in. At least we have a TV in here," Quon Yue announced. Just then, the lights flickered and shut off completely. "Or not. Guess it's a good thing we stocked up when we did..."

Hiro blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He actually found himself wishing Tokui was there instead. At least the boy always had a flashlight and plenty of batteries on him...

Quon Yue's sillohuette was barely visible below the window as he sat still on the floor. He didn't seem at all bothered by this turn of events, and that thought disturbed Hiro.

"Isn't there anyone that would miss you?" he asked, to break the silence again.

Quon Yue shook his head, though Hiro could barely see it. "Nope. I live alone on the other end of the district. Well, my cousin lives with me, but he's big, dumb, lazy, and doesn't speak a lick of Japanese. If he's even awake I doubt he'll be able to put two and two together and figure out it's almost midnight and I'm not home. Might get pissed about me not having dinner, though."

"That's right. You're Chinese..." Hiro muttered.

"That I am."

"Where in China are you from?"

Quon Yue shrugged. "I'm not from China. I was born in Japan. My mother was born in Beijing, though. She moved here with her family when she was ten. So I spoke Cantonese pretty much since I was able to talk. Interestingly enough, though, my stepfather was from Hong Kong, so I learned to speak Mandarin, too."

That actually was interesting for Hiro. He only spoke Japanese and barely spoke English, but this other man spoke at least three languages.

"My turn," Quon Yue announced.

"What?" Hiro asked, jarred from his thoughts.

"To ask a question." Quon Yue elaborated. "When did you first meet Shindou-san?"

Hiro closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Christ, we couldn't have been older than four. He was a the only boy on the playground with pink hair¹ and was eating a strawberry ice cream cone, and he was a little small for his age. Some boys hit him, made him drop his ice cream, and made him cry, so I pushed the boys down and gave him my Pocky. We've been best friends since."

There was the glow of a flame as Quon Yue struck a match and lit another cigarette, shaking his hand to put the match out and pitching it into the trashcan. After that, the only light in the room was the dull red point of his cigarette. "That story was sickeningly sweet. Your turn."

"My turn?"

"Question, dumbass. This is a Q&A game, right? We keep going, questions get more probing, we see who is the first to duck out."

"I wasn't aware that this was a game."

"It is now. So start asking some juicy questions if you want to win."

Hiro gave this serious consideration. He _would_ like to ask the so far mysterious Chen Quon Yue a deep, probing question, but he knew that for every one he asked, he would be asked one equally as probing in response.

"All right. What's your natural hair color?" he asked at last.

"That's a wussy question. Ask another one," Quon Yue ordered.

"No. I want the answer to that one."

"If you ask me that one, I'll ask you how long your dick is. Now ask another one."

Hiro smiled smugly. "I win?"

"No. It's just a damn stupid question. You can ask me anything in the world, and you ask my _hair color_? I mean, come on."

Hiro sighed. "All right. Fine. Why do you cross dress?"

Quon Yue smiled slightly, though Hiro couldn't see it. "That's more like it." He took another drag from his cigarette, snubbing it out using the edge of the trashcan again. "Well, if you want the short answer, it's because I don't think of myself as male."

Hiro nodded. "My producer was like that. He's a she now."

"No, not like that. I don't think I'm female, either."

Hiro quirked an eyebrow. "Hate to tell you this, but you have to be one or the other."

Quon Yue laughed a bit. "I don't know how to explain it. I don't feel I identify with either sex. I find the stereotypes surrounding them make them too restrictive. So I declare myself to be genderless or beyond gender, and I don't have to stick to those rules."

Hiro nodded skeptically. "All right. I can see how you don't like the stereotypes, but not everyone on earth can be that way, no matter how much you want them to be."

"But I don't want them to be," Quon Yue insisted. "It's like this: think of any industry in the world. I'll say onions for the sake of this example. So we have the onion farmers. They represent the continuation of the human race. They grow onions and ship them all over the world. The overwhelming majority likes onions, or at least enough people to keep the onion industry booming and the onion farmers in good shape. They represent the heterosexual masses and people who identify securely in their gender role. Then we have the people who just dislike onions. They hate the taste of them, and ignore them when offered them. They represent the homosexuals of this world, the people who, by no fault of their own, find themselves unable to join the majority of the world because of this taste. Does the onion industry fail because of them? No. But chances are they get ridiculed for it, and people offer them onions and try to get them to eat them even though they don't want them, just like homosexuals often have people forcing the opposite sex on them. Then we have the smallest percentage, those who are allergic to onions. These people are actually harmed by onions, and therefore avoid them at all costs. These represent people like me, who don't identify with any gender, and people like your producer, who don't identify with the gender they were born as, and go through a great deal of pain in their lives as a result. Does the onion industry fail because of them? No. Does the human race fail because about 3 percent of the population, three percent of _six billion_, for whatever reason, will not reproduce? No. And the world is overpopulated, anyway, so a few people removing themselves from the gene pool is probably a good idea. Understand what I'm getting at now?"

Hiro was surprised. He had figured that no matter how strange, annoying, or downright evil Quon Yue was, he was at least reasonably intelligent, but he had no idea he was so philosophical. Hiro was also starting to pick up that maybe he wasn't as evil as he had first seemed, even if he did like to be in control all the time.

"My turn, Mr. Suit," the young man said, cutting into Hiro's thoughts. "And I'd better make it good," he added sadistically. Hiro could hear a can of soda opening, and there was a pause as Quon Yue either thought or took a drink. "You told me earlier that you slept with Shindou-san, and other than that you were best friends. Have you ever wanted to be more than that with him?"

Hiro was glad for the darkness, for he could feel the color draining from his face. He took a drink from his own can of soda, fumbled with a bag of chips, then cleared his throat. "Sometimes. Once or twice. When we were in high school I did imagine being with him once in a while, but he never showed the same kind of interest, so I ignored it. I didn't even know he was gay until we were nineteen, but then, I don't think he did, either. Then he was with Yuki Eiri and I met a girl named Ayaka that I thought was the one, but she left me and I found myself thinking about Shuichi again. Then he got into an accident, the same accident that cost him his arm, and Suguru, the keyboardist of our band, helped me out, but after the band broke up he announced that he wanted to go to America to find himself and I wasn't invited, so I knew it was over. Probably just as well. He went to find himself and all he did was find drugs and lose what little of himself he had to begin with. And again, when he was gone, I found myself thinking about Shuichi. I had a few other little relationships doomed to fail, plenty of one-night stands, but lately I've been getting more lonely than even I can believe, and I find myself wanting Shuichi more than ever. It's so glaringly obvious even he noticed it, and he's a bit dense on subjects like that." Hiro sighed deeply. "I don't think it's so much that I love him. Of course I do, on many levels, but we both agreed a long time ago and again recently that any situation with us as lovers would probably end in catastrophe, so we don't love each other in that way. Besides, he's been with Yuki Eiri for seventeen years now. I think he's in it for the long haul. Has far more patience then I give him credit for, that's for sure, since Yuki Eiri is one of the coldest, most insensitive bastards you could ever have the misfortune of meeting, and all he ever does is make Shuichi upset, and everyone knows that if Shuichi is ever hurt or upset then God help the one who upset him, because I can and have inflict bodily harm on those who do upset him. It's been that way since we met. It's how we met in the first place. But Shuichi thinks Yuki Eiri is God, and has for almost twenty years, and if I can't convince him otherwise no one else will. So, is that enough of an answer for you?"

"Your turn," was the only response he got, so Hiro assumed he had answered the question to his satisfaction.

"How old are you, anyway?" Hiro asked. Then he had a thought. "That's not my question for the game. I honestly want to know. If you want to hold that until after the game is over, you can."

"Nah, I'll answer," Quon Yue said with a sigh. "I'm eighteen."

Hiro quirked an eyebrow. "The way you talk and act, I assumed you were older. Only eighteen?"

"At last count. My birthday was June sixth. I'm a Gemini. In fact, my appearance is supposed to be a physical representation of the sign of Gemini. Or as close as you can get with one person. Now, do you have a real question?"

Hiro gave that serious thought. "Actually, I do. Tell me, why are you so interested in Shuichi?"

There was a long moment of silence, and for a moment Hiro wondered if he had "won". Then Quon Yue's voice ended that thought. "You're going to think I'm nuts, if you don't already, but the reason why is because when I was younger I was a huge fan of his. I was a lonely kid. Really quiet. Got picked on a lot. I had nothing to call my own. Then I saw a Bad Luck video playing on a TV in a store, and I...fell in love, pretty much. I fixated on him. Not only was he good looking and talented, but just so unpredictable. I couldn't wait to find out what he said or did next. He was everything I wished I was. And now that I'm older, thinking back he was a big inspiration to me. He made me want to sing. And I'm happy to know he's smaller than me. I like people who are smaller than me. People who are bigger than me tend to intimidate me."

Hiro was completely taken off guard by this response. The more he talked to Quon Yue, the more human he seemed. Finally, he said, slowly, "Shuichi modeled himself after someone else, too. Sakuma Ryuuichi of Nittle Grasper. He even went as far as to try and look like him. He worshipped him from junior high on. But he also realized that he had to be his own person, since people were looking for something new, not a rehashing of something old. But I can safely say you realized that already."

Quon Yue was quiet for a very long time. Finally, he asked, in a voice so soft that Hiro could hardly hear it, "Do you think I'm a freak?"

Hiro looked at the floor. Before that night, he would have been quick to say yes. In fact, he probably still would have, had Quon Yue not asked him in a voice that seemed desperate for confirmation that he was, indeed, human.

"Not a freak," Hiro said at last. "Different. Very, very different. There's nothing wrong with that."

"You don't mean that. But I guess I deserved it. When I was a kid, I was small, quiet, and lonely. And easy to pick on. I was Chinese, I didn't have a father, and I had a defect in my eye. I was very smart, but that was all. It was enough to make the teachers make a token effort to reach out to me once in a while, but other than that no one paid much attention to me or cared what happened to me. So I decided that I was going to be really different, so different people would notice me and wouldn't dare pick on me."

Hiro suddenly felt ashamed for thinking Quon Yue was evil. He was arrogant, yes, and quite manipulative, but he had a feeling that there were good reasons for that. He decided he was only going to ask one more question, and after that resign from the game.

"What happened to your father?" Hiro asked.

"He was Japanese. He met my mother when she was sixteen, slept with her, and left her when he found out she was pregnant. I never knew him. I know he used to be signed onto this label and was a singer in a band. And I know his name. But I've never made an effort to find him. I'd probably hurt him."

Hiro found himself interested. He knew most of the artists that had been signed in NG's brief history. So he forced himself to ask. "Off the record and game aside, what was his name?"

Hiro was never prepared for the answer he got.

"According to my mother, his name was Aizawa Tachi."

It was just after midnight when Yuki woke up from a nightmare, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Shuichi, who had been curled up against him, arm around him, was sent flying backward at this, and thus was awakened by the sudden gesture.

"Yuki? Are you all right?" Shuichi asked softly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and removing his tie and jacket, throwing them both into the corner and wondering how the hell he had fallen asleep with them on.

Yuki looked at Shuichi, blinking slightly, as if trying to remember who he was. Then he nodded, his breathing returning to normal. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. Just a nightmare, that's all."

Shuichi wrapped his only arm around Yuki. "Is it about what happened to you?"

Instead of answering him directly, Yuki stood up, causing Shuichi to sit back on the bed. "Is Tokui asleep?"

Shuichi stood up, removing his shirt and pants and socks and throwing them on the floor, pulling on a T-shirt of Yuki's from the wash that still smelled like him and following him out into the hallway. "As far as I know. Why?"

"My nightmare. It was what happened to me, only it was happening to him. I want to know that he's all right."

"How can you tell it was him? He looks just like you did," Shuichi pointed out, but he followed him into the office.

"I just knew. It was my nightmare, I think I know it a little better than you," Yuki snapped, opening the door to the closet slightly and looking in. In the dim light he couldn't see anything, so he turned on his desk lamp before opening it a little further. Tokui wasn't sleeping in the unmade bed that had been placed there just that day, causing Yuki to enter panic mode. He slammed the door and stomped out of the room into the hall.

"Yuki, if he isn't in there, he can't have left the apartment without setting off the alarm. He doesn't have the code," Shuichi pointed out, shutting off the lamp and following his angry and worried lover.

There wasn't an answer. Shuichi stepped into the living room, where Yuki was standing, Tokui sitting bleary-eyed in the middle of the couch, wrapped in a blanket. He yawned, then looked at Yuki fearfully, causing Yuki to sigh with relief and throw himself into his chair.

"Eiri-ojisan?" the boy asked timidly.

"It's all right, Tokui," Yuki reassured, putting his face in his hand. "I had a bad dream about you and when you weren't in your bed I panicked."

"I-I can stay in my bed if you want..." Tokui offered meekly.

"No. I've restricted you enough as it is. You can sleep anywhere you want in the apartment. I just panicked, that's all."

Shuichi leaned over the back of Yuki's chair. "Yuki, are you sure you're all right? Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?"

"Beer," Yuki replied. He suddenly looked up, facing Tokui. "Have you been to bed at all yet?"

"Yes, Eiri-ojisan," Tokui confirmed with a nod.

"Did you take your new medicine?"

"Yes, Eiri-ojisan."

"Good boy."

Shuichi handed Yuki his beer and sat down on the couch. "So is our nightly crisis over?"

Yuki sighed and opened his beer can, take a long drink of it. "Pretty much. Dammit, I am so sorry, Tokui. For a lot of reasons."

"None of it is your fault, Yuki," Shuichi said firmly. "The nightmare _or_ what happened. And it's not your fault that Tokui is like this, either. So just go to bed, and in the morning we can worry about pulling our lives together. All three of us. Got it? At any rate, I've got work in the morning, and Tokui, your tutor is coming in the afternoon, isn't she?"

Tokui nodded, and Yuki just sighed. He didn't want to deal with anyone, let alone Tokui's teacher. Amai had gone to school normally, but when she was signed to NG she agreed to finish her work at home as a independent study and graduate early so she could focus on her music career.

"So get to bed. Both of you. Yuki, you need anything else?"

"Aspirin."

"Doesn't work with liquor."

"Death."

"Go to bed."

Yuki finished his beer, left the can on the coffee table, stood up, muttered something about Shuichi being in no position to order him around, and disappeared into the hall.

Shuichi sighed at this display, turned to Tokui, and put his hand on his shoulder. "What were you doing on the couch, Tokui?" he asked softly.

"I had a bad dream," he said quietly.

Shuichi didn't bother asking what him having a nightmare had to do with him sleeping on the couch, since the boy was known for making strange connections like that.

"Go to sleep. You've got school tomorrow," he said at last, standing up and walking into the hall. "Good night, Tokui."

"Oyasumi nasai, Shindou-san," Tokui shouted back.

Touma removed his reading glasses, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and resting his pen on the desk. He looked at his desk clock, saw that it was around midnight, deduced that it would be around ten in the afternoon in New York, and picked up the phone, dialing the overseas operator to connect him to a familiar number.

After a few rings, there was an answer. "Hello?" a cheerful but polite voice asked in English.

"Alexander?" Touma asked, forcing the foreign name awkwardly over his Japanese-accustomed tongue. He cleared his throat and continued (in English, though the boy spoke Japanese) "This is Seguchi-san. Are either of your parents home?"

"Oh, yeah, just a second, Seguchi-san," Alexander answered in Japanese. He could hear a slight click as the receiver was placed on a table, the muffled call of "Dad! Phone!" in English, and then a few moments of silence as Touma waited patiently for someone to pick up.

Most people assumed that because Ryuuichi and K had been living together for so long that Alexander had been adopted by both of them. In all actuality, he was biologically Ryuuichi's, the product of a short-lived relationship he had engaged in while conducting his solo career in America. When the boy was three, he had been abandoned with the two men, and K had adopted him and raised him as his own. But anyone who saw Alexander would realize there was no possible way he couldn't be Ryuuichi's son.

But even though Alexander looked like Ryuuichi, he actually acted more like K. This was probably better all around, since when K had adopted him his own son, Michael, had decided that his father had moved on and wanted nothing to do with him, and had refused to have anything to do with his father, instead attaching himself to his stepfather. This had been a blow to K, and he had begun to dote on his adoptive son as a result.

Finally, a familiar voice said, in English, "Hello?"

"Mr. K?" Touma asked.

"The one and only," K confirmed, still in English. "And who is this?"

"Seguchi-san," Touma answered.

"Seguchi! Sorry, it's been so long since I've heard your voice I didn't recognize it," K said in Japanese, obviously surprised that his former employer was calling him.

"It's all right," Touma said, smiling slightly and trying to fight off his own tired feelings.

"Actually, I was just getting ready to call you," K told him.

"Oh?" Touma asked with interest, pulling the receiver of his phone away as he yawned.

"Yeah. Two days ago your cousin appeared on my doorstep. He's been crashing on my couch during the day and at night disappearing to parts unknown. And dammit, does he ever look like hell."

Touma suddenly felt himself growing very angry. "You didn't give him any money, did you?"

"No. If he wants to go to hell in a hand-basket that's his priority, but he can leave me and my family out of it. I'm kicking him out as soon as he wakes up. And I'm saying you ordered it, since I have a feeling that's what you were about to do. Anyway, I assume this isn't a pleasure call, since it's after midnight there. What's on your mind?"

"I actually called about Alexander. By the way, why isn't he at school?"

"He graduated a year early, and before that he was home-schooled. He's just staying here until his music career gets going. So what about him?"

"Well, first, you and Sakuma-san are coming to my wedding, right?"

"Yes, as far as I know. It's at the end of this month, right?"

"Correct. But I wanted to know if you three could come a little sooner. And if my cousin is there, put a gun against his head and force him to come with you so I can put him in rehab."

"With pleasure. But why?"

"A new idea. Actually an idea of Shindou-san and the new manager's: Neo Grasper."

"Neo Grasper?"

"Right. My daughter, Ryuuichi's son, Noriko's daughter. Neo Grasper."

"I'm intrigued. And I'm sure Ryuuichi will be thrilled at the idea as soon as he hears about it. But shouldn't you ask Alex about that?"

"Actually, I would rather you did. Preferably while on the way here. You see, I haven't quite sold Amai on the idea yet, and I think if I can get her, Alexander, and Saki in the same room she'll see what a good idea this is and back down."

"You mean you want to put her on the spot so she'll say yes. I'm warning you right now, Seguchi: don't force your kids to follow in your footsteps if they don't want to. But I think I will do that. Ryuuichi has been excited about going to Japan and seeing you again, Alex has been excited about visiting there for the first time in ten years, and I am about due for a vacation. The firing range is doing well, but it's a little more stressful than I thought. Alex has been helping me with it, but he's been busy himself lately. Plus I want to get Fujisaki back to Japan so you can get him to straighten up and fly right. He wants to get better. He really does. He just needs a push in the right direction, and I think you're the one who should do the pushing."

"Then it's settled. You can stay at my house. There are plenty of extra bedrooms, and it has a ramp and an elevator because the last owner was an elderly, wheelchair-bound man."

"Sounds perfect. We'll be there...I'll get back to you on that, since we still have some things to get in order, plus I don't know when the next flight to Tokyo is. Plus I still have to run the idea by the others. But I'll keep Fujisaki here and bring him with me when we do arrive."

"That sounds good."

"Seguchi, you sound tired. Hang up the phone an go to bed."

"Yes, of course. And tell Ryuuichi-san that I said hi."

"Fine. See you soon. Good bye."

Touma audibly yawned this time. "Good bye, Mr. K," he said groggily in English, hanging up the phone.

Now all he had to worry about was telling Amai that Alexander was on his way in the morning...

**End of Chapter Five**

¹ There is absolutely NO indication in the anime that Shuichi dyes his hair, nor is there in the OAV. As far as we know, it's natural. In the manga, he DOES dye his hair, but it's naturally burgundy and he dyes it _blonde_ later, not pink. Just because he has hot pink hair does not mean he dyes it, since anime has all sort of interesting hair colors that are, as far as we know, natural in their world. (Like Noriko's is violet and Suguru's is dark green.) I am mostly using anime continuity, but I use some details from the manga, namely K's son, Michael.


	6. Chapter 6

Heart's Façade

Chapter Six: Past and Future

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"You owe me big," Hiro muttered, stirring his coffee and taking a large gulp of it.

Shuichi was taken off guard. He was the one who had to take the bus that morning because someone didn't pick him up and bring him to work like he usually did, and he was the one that owed Hiro? But by the look of Hiro's rumpled clothing, the dark circles under his eyes, and his loose and messy hair, Shuichi had already deduced he had a good reason. And by Hiro's bad mood, he was willing to guess that it wasn't something pleasant.

"Okay, I give up," Shuichi said at last, taking a drink of his soda (he'd never cared for the taste of coffee). "What'd I do?"

"It's your fault I have to work with Chen Quon Yue," Hiro accused, as if this explained all.

"Hiro, I'm sorry, but it's not my fault! Seguchi-san hates me, but he promised Yuki he'd leave me alone. Going after my friends is his way of getting revenge. I'll talk to Yuki about it, but he doesn't like you all that much, either."

"That's not what I meant," Hiro muttered, sitting at the table and taking a bite out of a plain glazed doughnut from the box in the center of the table that Shuichi had brought with him. Shuichi was already half-finished with his own strawberry frosted. "Chen Quon Yue is your biggest fan."

"Excuse me?" Shuichi asked around a mouthful of pastry.

"You are to Chen Quon Yue as Sakuma Ryuuichi was to you. He doesn't model himself after you exactly, but you're the one who made him want to sing in the first place, and you're the one that made him want to get signed onto this label. Therefore I am blaming you for me having to work with him," Hiro further clarified. "He informed me of that last night while we were stuck here with no heat and no electricity. I got two hours of sleep collectively all night. I don't know how the hell he did it, but he's all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. He's up in the studio with his session band and Kyousei Himeko recording a few tracks. As soon as I wake up a bit more I'm going to ask Seguchi-san for a day off. Last night had better count as overtime..."

Shuichi suddenly gave Hiro a one-armed embrace. "Poor, poor Hiro. Forced to spend the night in a cold, dark building with an evil Chinese man..."

"As much as I appreciate your sympathy, at the moment what I really need is sleep," Hiro told Shuichi, though he wrapped his arms around his smaller best friend. "Do you know if Seguchi-san is in a meeting or anything right now?"

Shuichi backed away from Hiro and looked up at the clock. "As a matter of fact, he is. He and Amai have been fighting all morning. I have never seen her so pissed."

"Shit," Hiro said softly. Then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and turned around with a start. Standing between two vending machines was a tall man with neatly cropped dark hair, wearing a black suit (complete with black shirt and tie) and donning dark sunglasses, holding a black briefcase. In his right ear was what appeared to be a barely noticeable speaker. In contrast to all the black he looked quite pale, though not as pale as Chen Quon Yue.

Shuichi also noticed the man, but he didn't seem at all startled. He looked at Hiro, who was recovering from his scare, and smiled. "Hiro, this is Rosuto Koji, Amai's new manager. And Rosuto-san, this is Nakano Hiroshi, Amai's old manager before he was reassigned."

Hiro didn't comment on the odd name¹. He just offered his hand, which the man ignored as he placed his briefcase on the table and opened it, making sure it was at such an angle that Hiro and Shuichi couldn't see what was inside.

"Nakano Hiroshi," Koji said at last, his accent distinctly un-Japanese. "Preferred name: Hiro. Born and raised in Tokyo, Japan. Dropped out of school your twelfth year after nearly graduating top in your class. Formed Bad Luck around roughly the same time. You are thirty-five years old, your birthdate is August eighth, your height is one hundred seventy eight centimeters, your weight is sixty-two kilograms, your blood type is B, you have a genius IQ of one hundred sixty five, with the band Bad Luck you sold collectively more than twelve million albums, having released seven albums during your eleven-year career. You were briefly engaged to Kaiyou Ayaka, formerly Usami Ayaka, now married to Kaiyou Katsuhiro and living in the lower end of the district with her husband and five children. Had a brief romance with keyboardist Fujisaki Suguru who moved to Los Angeles and recently New York where sources tell me he has problems with drug abuse, namely cocaine and heroin. You are currently renting a storage facility on the west side of the district, contents of which is a motorcycle and three guitars. Interesting, as you live on the eastern end of the district. You were also recently billed by Seguchi Touma for one new carpet- white- and one new table- oak- and will probably be billed by him for the three vending machines you vandalized with Chen Quon Yue last night at approximately twenty-three thirty² while stuck here in a snowstorm. Don't worry; if he doesn't ask I won't tell."

Rosuto Koji closed his briefcase, nodded curtly, then took a grape-jelly filled doughnut out of the box in the center of the table.

"How the hell do you know all that?" Hiro asked with both anger and amazement.

Koji swallowed the mouthful of doughnut he was chewing on and smiled slightly. "If the need to know is strong enough, you can find out just about anything."

"And you had a strong need to know about my life?"

"I have a strong need to know about everything. Good day, Nakano-san. Shindou-san, Amai is still preoccupied with her father so take your time. And I believe Tokui was last last seen in rehearsal room three."

With that, Rosuto Koji disappeared from the room.

"I really want to see Seguchi-san's hiring policy," Hiro said after a few seconds. Then he turned to Shuichi. "Aren't you supposed to be watching Tokui?"

"Yuki fired his tutor and is having him do independent study, and he feels bad about something he did last night so today we agreed that as long as he doesn't leave the building and meets me in the rehearsal room where we usually meet with Amai then he can wander about unsupervised."

"I see..." Hiro said, finishing his doughnut and coffee. "Hey, you want to meet someone?"

"Who?" Shuichi asked.

"A couple of someones, really. I had to meet your new manager, so it's only fair that you meet my new producer and act. Besides, if Seguchi-san and Amai are going at it then they probably won't be done for a while. What is wrong with them now, anyway?"

Shuichi sighed. "Last night Seguchi-san called Mr. K and Sakuma-san and told them to come as soon as possible and bring Alex with them. I guess Fujisaki is with them so they are bringing him with them so Seguchi-san can check him into a rehab center. But Seguchi-san's main goal was to get Alex, Saki, and Amai in the same room and put them on the spot so they have to agree to Neo Grasper. Fortunately Amai doesn't blame me for discussing the idea with her father in the first place- I honestly didn't think he'd get this excited about the idea- but now Amai is majorly pissed at him."

"I can't say I really blame her. She likes to have control of a situation. Just like Seguchi-san. If she is backed into a corner she comes out fighting like a wildcat, and I know that she's a little more short-tempered and verbal than Seguchi-san is."

Hiro pressed the button on the elevator, waiting for it to open. He looked down at Shuichi, noticed there was some strawberry frosting on the corner of his mouth, and reached down and wiped it off, licking it off his finger without giving it a second thought.

"Thanks, mother," Shuichi said tauntingly, before noticing Hiro eating it off his finger, causing him to blush slightly and face the floor. The elevator opened, and two people climbed out before Hiro and Shuichi could get in. Hiro pressed the button that took them to the third floor and leaned against the wall.

"There are days I wish I had listened to my parents and gone to medical school," Hiro muttered, rubbing his temples.

Shuichi slipped his arm around his best friend. "My poor, poor Hiro. I think you would have made a good doctor."

"Well, when we were kids we certainly enjoyed playing doctor enough. Though most of the time you were the doctor and I was the patient," Hiro muttered, though he wrapped an arm around Shuichi's shoulders.

Shuichi giggled. "And people wonder how we ended up gay..."

"You're gay. I'm bisexual. If a good looking woman crosses my path I still stop to admire the view. Though your mother and my parents were more than a little suspicious when we were sixteen and still having sleepovers where we shared a bed."

"I like to keep my Hiro close," Shuichi said, beaming up at Hiro.

"I'm yours now? You have to make up your mind. You can't have both me and Yuki. I don't think Yuki wants to share you, and I know I don't."

"You've always been mine. And I've always been yours. But you give me to Yuki, and I give you to...whoever you want, as soon as you find someone."

"Sounds like a good deal," Hiro said softly as the elevator door opened, though in all actuality it didn't sound good to him. While his rational half was screaming not to think about it because it could never work, it was currently being conquered by the half of him that could only fixate on the small man pressed against him and how wonderful it felt to have him that close.

Hiro stepped out of the elevator, Shuichi still clinging to him, and pushed open the door to the recording studio. Kyousei Himeko was standing on one side of the glass behind the sound technicians who were busy operating the mixing boards and other sensitive equipment. On the other side was a large assortment of session musicians: a guitarist, a bass player, a drummer, two keyboard players, and even a trumpet player and a violinist. Standing in the center of the session band was Chen Quon Yue, hair still loose and somewhat greasy from not having been washed that day, his vest failing to conceal the blood stains on his white T-shirt.

But what both Hiro and Shuichi noticed first were his eyes.

Hiro was amazed he hadn't seen it while recording the previous day. They were narrowed in concentration, sweat pouring down his face as he forced each word out with a passion that made both men think of only one thing, and that one thing was confirmed by the blue-violet his eyes had turned as he sang out each verse, each chorus, each bridge: whatever possessed Sakuma Ryuuichi while he sang had to be possessing Chen Quon Yue right now.

Hiro and Shuichi stood silently next to Himeko as he finished the track. The music faded out, and the musicians slumped over tiredly.

"Get up, you lazy asses!" Quon Yue ordered, his eyes shifting from blue-violet to bright blue, breaking the spell on Hiro and Shuichi. "That's only one! We have to keep going!"

Hiro knocked on the glass separating the soundproof recording area and the mixing area. Quon Yue looked over at the glass, then walked over to the door, stepping out of the area and over to Hiro.

"Mr. Suit!" Quon Yue said with what sounded like sincere surprise. "I thought for sure you'd stuck me with the producer chick and left, since you didn't sleep at all last night."

"And you did?" Hiro asked skeptically.

Quon Yue stretched. "I've slept in worse places. At least this was indoors and the heat kicked in at about four. So, you rang?"

Hiro nodded. "Shuichi, this is Chen Quon Yue, and right behind him is Kyousei Himeko. Kyousei-san, Chen, this is Shindou Shuichi."

Shuichi shook hands with Himeko, who noticed his absent right arm and smiled sympathetically, making Hiro want to groan. He then offered his hand to Quon Yue, who was standing speechless only a few feet away from him. Quon Yue started to extend his left hand, noticed the dried blood and scabs all over it, and quickly hid it behind his back.

"I-It's an honor to m-meet you, sir," Quon Yue choked out.

Hiro raised an eyebrow, seeing Quon Yue's nervous expression. His eyes had turned almost white now, making his defective left one all the more obvious, but a blush was crawling over his face.

Shuichi giggled. "Hiro told me you were a fan, so I just had to meet you. By the way, you sounded great in there. You reminded me of Sakuma Ryuuichi for a bit."

"Th-thank you, sir," Quon Yue replied too quickly. He looked down at the floor. "I mean, I'm not nearly as good as you, but-"

"You're better. Trust me. Sakuma Ryuuichi was better than I could ever hope to be, and I think in there you were taken over by whatever spirit takes him over when he sings. You even had the same eyes!"

"That means a lot coming from you, sir," Quon Yue said sincerely, nodding.

"Chen, if you're about done, Shuichi needs to get to work downstairs and we need to discuss something in the rehearsal room," Hiro interrupted.

"Yes, of course," Quon Yue agreed. "He must be a very busy man. I mean, he's Shindou Shuichi, after all, and-"

"Nice to meet you, Chen-san!" Shuichi said brightly, taking Quon Yue's previously hidden left hand and shaking it. "I look forward to hearing your CD when it comes out, and I hope to see you perform."

Quon Yue was dumbstruck at Shuichi's actions and words. Shuichi released his hand and left the room, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

After Shuichi had been gone for a few minutes and Quon Yue had had a chance to recover from his encounter, Hiro cleared his throat, causing both Himeko and Quon Yue to look at him, Quon Yue's eyes dark and indifferent again.

"If that's all settled, I'd like to handle some things downstairs in the rehearsal room," Hiro announced.

Himeko looked at her watch. "I'm afraid I'll have to postpone joining you. I have an appointment I need to get to."

"You have a lot of appointments. What gives?" Quon Yue asked, his eyes turning bright blue.

Himeko sighed and took a card out of her pocket, handing it to Quon Yue. When Hiro looked over his shoulder to see what it said, she handed him a second one. Printed on the card was a logo that read "Fifth District Real Estate". Beneath the logo it said "Kyousei Himeko, Senior Vice President".

"You have a second job?" Hiro asked, pocketing the card.

Himeko just sighed again and nodded. "Well, not entirely. My family owns that business. My sisters and I are running it currently, since our mother has Alzheimer's and my brother is in medical school. Mother is the founder and president. But because I'm the only one who went to business school I end up attending most of the meetings."

"But why become a record producer if you already have a job?" Quon Yue asked, pitching the card over his shoulder.

"I was a record producer before Mother got sick and I had to take over the business. You're not the first person I've acted as a producer for, you know, and you most likely won't be my last. I've been with NG for twenty years now."

"Twenty years! How old are you?" Quon Yue asked bluntly.

"Old enough to not want to answer that question. Now, if you'll excuse me, if I stay here any longer I'll be late for my meeting." And with that Kyousei Himeko left.

Quon Yue looked at the door for a moment, shrugged, and lit a cigarette. "So let's go, Mr. Suit. Hopefully we can do what needs to be done without producer chick around."

Hiro pushed open the door to the studio and left, walking over to the elevator and pressing the button. When it opened Quon Yue pushed past him and walked in, still smoking. The ride to the second floor was passed in silence, Quon Yue finishing his cigarette and dropping it onto the floor of the cab, stepping it out. Hiro flinched, but didn't say anything.

As they walked toward their rehearsal room, Hiro could hear music playing faintly. He stopped for a moment, causing Quon Yue, who was walking behind him, to stop. Listening to the music, he turned around and followed it in the direction it was coming from, stopping in front of a different rehearsal room, different because this one had several instruments stocked within, including a grand piano (which was both a mystery and a joke to the employees at NG, for no one knew how Touma had managed to get it in the building in the first place, let alone on the second floor). It was also different in that it was a rehearsal room that only Seguchi Touma or anyone he gave permission to could go in and use the instruments.

Hesitantly, Hiro pushed open the door and looked in. The room was still dark, so he had to strain to see, but finally his eyes rested on the grand piano in the center of the room. Sitting on the bench, playing a breezy tune effortlessly and not knowing he had an audience, was Seguchi Tokui.

Hiro opened the door further, staring in, amazed at the boy. He'd had no idea he was so talented, though he had to admit that with so many musically talented people in his family it was probably impossible for him not to be. Quon Yue appeared at Hiro's side and watched him as well, and they stood there for several minutes before Tokui happened to glance at the open doorway.

His fingers all hit the keys in a single, flat note, before he slammed down the lid over the keys. He was hyperventilating, and he grabbed his inhaler from his sachel, taking two deep puffs of medicine.

"I-I'm sorry, Nakano-san!" he said quickly, eyes filling with tears and a barely noticeable blush crawling into his cheeks. "It's just...Tousan told me I could come in here whenever I wanted to...but if you want to use that room then go ahead...I won't bother you! Please, use it!"

"Tokui, it's all right. We don't need the room," Hiro reassured. "You didn't do anything wrong. We just wanted to hear you play."

Tokui seemed to notice Quon Yue for the first time, gasped, and shrank back. "I-I see. I am so sorry. I shouldn't be in here. I'll go."

He walked bravely toward the door, causing the two men standing there to part automatically as he darted toward the staircase. Hiro swallowed and closed to door to the rehearsal room. He'd always felt bad for the boy, cursed with horribly low self-esteem and a belief that no matter what he was doing something wrong. Hiro had no doubt that he lived a tortured existence, hiding himself away because he felt himself unworthy of joining the rest of the world. Only his sister and uncle could ever really reach him, as much as he could be reached. Sometimes Hiro felt a strong desire to reach out to the boy himself, if anything just to end his own desperate loneliness. Hiro had to admit that Tokui was quite good looking, though those thoughts always made him ashamed. Not only was he less than half his age and still a child, but he was the only son of his boss and the beloved nephew of his rival.

"Who was that?" Quon Yue asked softly, his eyes that peculiar sky blue color that Hiro had so far been unable to assign an emotion.

"Seguchi Tokui. Seguchi Touma's son," Hiro answered.

"He doesn't look like Seguchi," Quon Yue observed.

"He looks like his uncle, Yuki Eiri. Which I suppose is good, since Yuki Eiri might be a cold and insensitive bastard, but he's a damn good looking one. Seguchi-san's daughter Amai, on the other hand, looks and acts exactly like him. It's almost creepy."

Quon Yue didn't answer. Hiro looked over at him to see his eyes were still the same sky blue color, looking in the direction that Tokui had ran.

"He's been hurt," Quon Yue said at last. Hiro raised an eyebrow and glanced at him, and Quon Yue continued. "Something hurt him badly. Is still hurting him. He thinks he's worthless, that he shouldn't be seen by the rest of the world. He was hiding, wasn't he?"

Hiro swallowed. If he had been that accurate gauging Tokui, then he shuddered to think what Quon Yue thought of him. "He does that. A lot. He prefers small, enclosed spaces where no one can see him. Closets, pantries, empty rooms, the like."

Quon Yue nodded slightly and looked down at the floor, following Hiro obediently. Hiro could see a single tear in the corner of his eye, and for a moment thought he had imagined it.

"Oh my God...you like him, don't you?" Hiro asked suddenly.

Quon Yue looked up, the tear falling down his cheek. His eyes were the icy blue that Hiro knew meant he was in trouble. "I feel bad for him. I am human, for chrissakes!"

Hiro clenched his fists, ready to defend himself from the younger man if it was necessary, though he knew bare fists against a knife really wasn't an even match.

"Stay away from him," Hiro ordered. "He has it bad enough as it is. He's not like other boys and probably never will be. He doesn't need you corrupting him."

Quon Yue narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Hiro actually feared for his life. "Don't tell me what to do, Mr. Suit. I have absolutely no intention of hurting him. I don't hurt anyone unless they deserve it, because I know what it's like to be hurt and to be hurt badly. You don't know me, Mr. Suit, and at the rate you're going you never will, but when I was younger I got hurt very badly and very often for absolutely no reason. So don't tell me to stay away from someone because you're afraid I'll hurt them, because you know jack shit about me."

And with that Quon Yue stomped past the rehearsal room they usually used and toward the stairwell.

"And the most ironic thing is I was about to cave in and tell you I would do it because I felt bad about not liking your fiancée, but you had to pull this stunt and ruin that! Now I wouldn't go along with it even if it was the greatest idea of all time!" Amai shouted at her father.

Touma looked unmoved at his desk, having engaged in much worse shouting matches in the past with his daughter. He didn't say anything in response, knowing when he was beaten and not wanting to exasperate the situation. The way Amai worked was she would be angry and put her foot down, Touma would let her have her way, and eventually she'd cave in and try the other way, if just out of curiosity. Touma had been much like her at her age, before his experience with Nittle Grasper had taught him to get a handle on his feelings and start thinking what would be good for others and not just himself. Having a best friend who was willing to die for him didn't hurt, either, as it had been Ryuuichi's companionship that had help forge the man he was today.

"You're not going to say anything?" Amai asked, her rage not having subsided.

"You're right. I shouldn't have backed you into a corner. I thought I was doing what was best for you, and unfortunately I didn't take your feelings into consideration. I could only remember my own experiences with Nittle Grasper and the strong bonds I formed with Noriko-chan and Ryuuichi-san, and you don't have many friends so I thought you getting to know Saki and Alexander would remedy that. But I shouldn't have forced you to follow in my footsteps if you didn't want to. Unfortunately, it's too late to call Sakuma-san and Mr. K and tell them not to come because they have Fujisaki-san with them and I would like to get him into rehab as soon as possible, but after I introduce you to Alexander- since you haven't seen him since you were six- you are free to do what you like. I will even cancel my meeting with Noriko-chan and Saki if you would like me to."

Amai seemed surprised. Seguchi Touma hated defeat, and he hated admitting that he was defeated even more. His daughter and possibly Yuki Eiri were the only people on earth who had ever went against him in a debate and won, and it was a painful truth he didn't wish to confront often.

Before Amai could speak again, the phone on Touma's desk rang. He picked it up, knowing very few people had the direct line to his office (others had to be rerouted through the front desk). "Moshi moshi," he said.

"Seguchi! Glad I caught you!" a familiar yet tired-sounding voice said cheerfully. "We just got in. We meant to call you sooner, but your phone kept ringing busy."

"Mr. K! I was about to call you!" Touma said with genuine surprise and enthusiasm.

"Well, whatever you have to say you can save until you can pick us up. We're stranded at the airport right now," K explained.

Touma quirked an eyebrow. "I see," he said in English, hoping Amai wouldn't understand. "I am currently speaking to my daughter, but I will be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you. We'll be here," K replied in English before disconnecting.

Touma hung up, looking up at Amai, whose dark eyes were fixed on him.

"You'll be there as soon as you can, will you?" Amai asked in English. "You forget I passed English, and I am still learning it independently."

Touma smiled and stood up, picking up his feather-fringed coat and putting it on along with his hat and tugging on his gloves. "Yes, I am afraid I did," he confirmed in Japanese. "I get so busy I forget that you are still studying even though you are finished high school, and you are a very intelligent girl. Would you like to come with me?"

Amai shrugged. "If there is enough room. I mean, you said Mr. K and Sakuma-san are coming, and they are bringing Alexander and Fujisaki-san, so including you that's five people."

"I will stop by the house first and get my van. I would have had to, anyway."

Amai nodded and followed her father out of the office, giving no thought to the fact that she and her father were currently dressed identically. In the halls people had trouble telling father and daughter apart on normal days, and usually called both "Seguchi-san" to be safe. The few people on a first name basis with one or the other always assumed both were Touma to be safe, as while Amai always took being mistaken for her father as a compliment, Touma didn't share those sentiments.

As they entered the hall they passed Hiro, who blinked at the seeming double vision, walked beside the first figure that the second seemed to be leading them.

"Seguchi-san?" he asked, not trying to guess which one was which.

"Nakano-san," the one he was speaking to acknowledged, and Hiro knew he was speaking to Seguchi Touma.

"I was wondering, sir, if I could take the day off. I'm sure you've heard about how I ended up staying the night here, and my act left, anyway, so I really don't see any reason to stay."

"Yes, of course, Nakano-san. As long as you still do your job and remember our deal you can take all the time you need," Touma told Hiro off-handedly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy. Remember to check in with the receptionist before you leave."

And with that, Touma and Amai left Hiro standing in the hall behind them.

The airport was packed with people, many of them angry about having had their flights postponed or cancelled and either having to leave early or having arrived at their destination late. Occasionally the public address system would crackle on, spit out it's barely coherent messages, and crackle back off.

Amai looked around here, straining through her sunglasses in the already dim terminal. She looked over at her father, who was also scanning the crowd. Finally, he saw something that caught his attention and began walking, his daughter close at his heels. Sure enough, standing next to the baggage claim, was a small group of people: a tall man with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, his shoulder holster barely noticeable under his faded dark blue jacket, a small man in a wheelchair with somewhat long brown-green hair and bright, glittering blue-violet eyes with a one-legged pink stuffed bunny in a special harness on the back of the chair; a young man who looked roughly the same height and weight as the wheel-chair bound man, wearing a red hairband to keep his long brown-green bangs from his blue-violet eyes, his own shoulder holster slightly better concealed (though not entirely invisible) beneath his denim jacket, and, interestingly enough, had a blue stuffed rabbit tucked under his arm; and a fourth figure that was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hood raised to conceal it's face, hands jammed firmly in it's pockets.

Touma and Amai stopped in front of the small group, and the man in the wheelchair's eyes lit up. He pushed himself forward and grasped Touma's leg firmly.

"Touma!" Ryuuichi shouted excitedly. He released as Touma leaned forward and embraced his best friend and former bandmate. He had heard about the accident that had caused Ryuuichi the use of his legs (and Kumagorou one of his) but he hadn't actually seen the man since he had been confined to the wheelchair.

Touma looked up at the others and shook hands with K. "It is good to see you all," he said, one of his rare genuine smiles lighting up his face. Years ago, when Touma and Ryuuichi had still been in high school, Ryuuichi had told Touma that he smiled too much and that he wished he would save his smiles for when he was happy. Touma had tried it, but he quickly realized his smile was as much as tool as a mask.

"It's great to see you, too," K agreed. "For many reasons. We've been here for two hours now."

"Then let's go," Touma said with a nod. K and the younger man both took two bags, and Amai and Touma each took two others, Ryuuichi keeping a pace with Touma and Amai standing just behind both men, the sweatshirt-clad figure standing between Amai and K and the young man.

One out in the van with everything pack up and everyone situated, they pulled out into the busy Tokyo traffic.

"Sorry I didn't make the introductions in the airport, but it was so crowded and I figured you were tired of standing there," Touma explained. "In back is my daughter, Amai. And Amai, sitting up here next to me is Sakuma Ryuuichi. You probably don't remember him. And in the middle seats are Crawd Winchester- better known as K- and my cousin, Fujisaki Suguru. And sitting next to you is Alexander Sakuma-Winchester."

Ryuuichi turned around and waved, smiling sunnily. "Hello!"

K also turn and looked at the girl. "I'd heard you'd grown up to look just like your father, but I didn't think you'd look that much like him. I thought I was experiencing deja vu back there. Alex, say hi." Alex looked at Amai, waved slightly, and resumed looking out the window. K sighed. "Sorry about that. He's usually much friendlier. Just the plane trip was long and hard and we've been stuck in that airport all day."

"Mr. K, when did you cut your hair?" Touma asked, looking in his rearview mirror at the man in question.

K sighed and looked down at the floor mats. "I didn't want to. It's embarrassing, actually. I have no culinary skills, as you well know, and Alex and Ryuuichi, the usual cooks, were both sick with the flu so I had to fend for myself. And lets just say that long hair and gas stoves don't agree with each other."

"You lost all of it?" Touma asked in amazement.

"Well, up to about halfway up to my shoulders, but the rest was badly singed. Even the best beautician in Manhattan couldn't do anything with it, so I just had it all cut off. This was all two years ago, by the way. It took me 52 years to get it that long, and I'm not counting on living to see 104, so I am not trying to grow it out again."

Touma pulled into the large garage of his mansion and killed the engine. The door to the van was slid open, and everyone automatically piled out. A few reached for bags before Touma said to leave them for the maid, and with that they trekked into the palatial estate.

Much of the house was decorated with a Victorian motif, with mostly dark carpeting and furniture with dark wallpaper and many lamps scattered about, and floral designs everywhere. Anyone who stepped into the living room alone would deduce either that Seguchi Touma was more feminine than they originally believed or that he had hired an interior designer (it was the latter, along with Amai's flair for room themes).

Once everyone was shown to their rooms to get some well-deserved sleep, Touma pulled his cousin to the side to speak with him face-to-face for the first time in almost 3 years.

"Don't get too settled in," Touma instructed firmly. "You will only be staying here until you rest and recover from your jet lag. Then there is a rehab center a few districts away expecting you. And I am not letting you leave the house until then."

Suguru just nodded, his face hidden beneath his hood.

"Take off that sweatshirt, Suguru. The heating here is more than adequate," Touma ordered.

Very slowly, Suguru peeled off the sweatshirt. Beneath it he was wearing a plain black T-shirt, but that wasn't what Touma noticed that made him gasp and suddenly feel ill. The man standing before him was just an empty shell of what had once been Fujisaki Suguru. Always lean, he was now bone thin. His once neat and glossy dark green hair was now dull and mattered and didn't look as if it had been washed in at least a year. The bones in his face were visible, as well as the dark circles under his eyes, made all the more obvious by his sickly pale skin. He also had thin bruises running up his arms along the veins, trackmarks from his heroin use. His once glittering brown eyes were glazed over, and he sniffed, his nose sounding stuffed.

"What have you done to yourself?" Touma asked, reaching out and taking his cousin into an embrace.

"I didn't want you to see," Suguru said softly. "That's why I didn't come back to Japan sooner. I didn't want you to see what I'd become."

"I am going to get you some help, Suguru. Don't worry. I'll make sure you get better."

"I hope so," the younger man whispered, though his voice was completely devoid of hope.

End of Chapter Six

¹ Rosuto is the Japanese pronounciation for "lost", and Koji means "orphan". Considering his obvious secret agent roots and the fact that he doesn't seem to be Japanese, this is probably some kind of code name.


	7. Chapter 7

Heart's Façade

Chapter Seven: Friends and Enemies

Written by A Girl Named Goo

"I am NOT going," Shuichi announced, reading the invitation. "Besides, I'm not personally invited. I'll go to the wedding because I was personally invited, but if Seguchi-san or Sakano-san can't find it in their heart to invite me to their engagement party, then I am simply not going to go."

Yuki took the invitation from Shuichi before he could do something like rip it up or throw it away. "It says I can bring a guest."

"Bring someone else. I don't care. I HATE Seguchi-san's dinner parties."

"I thought you liked formal affairs?"

"I USED to. Then I went to Seguchi-san's last dinner party. He started out with one glass of wine at dinner, moved on to a scotch on the rocks, and by the end of the night he was plastered. Then he sent me downstairs to the basement for more wine, and when I finally came back he was hitting on you! And even worse, you weren't doing anything to stop it!"

Yuki couldn't argue with that logic. His former brother-in-law was the type who didn't drink often, but once he started he had trouble stopping. Yuki, on the other hand, had been a casual drinker for a good portion of his life and alcohol had little to no effect on him.

"You've been known to do some pretty crazy things when you're drunk," Yuki said at last. "I'll do you a favor and refrain from discussing them at length, but I will say that I hardly think Touma is going to hit on me or anyone else at his own engagement party, drunk or sober."

"I still don't want to go," Shuichi muttered. "He obviously doesn't want me there. Otherwise he would have sent me an invitation instead of having it be implied on yours."

"All the more reason to go. Make him regret not inviting you."

"Because that's not the way he works. He didn't invite me to see if I'd come with you, anyway. Then at work either me or Hiro will have to suffer for me coming. Frankly, I'm not in the mood."

"Fine. It's your perogative," Yuki said at last, though in his mind he was already making a note to call Touma and tell him to send Shuichi an invitation, not so much because he wanted Shuichi there with him, but more because he knew how disappointed Shuichi was at not having been invited, something Yuki would have to suffer for later. He wasn't going to miss his former brother-in-law's engagement party because his own live-in lover was deciding to be difficult, but he wasn't going to catch grief for going, either.

Shuichi was sitting in his chair next to Yuki's in his office, watching him write. "I also got some interesting news from Hiro today."

"He's going to move to America and find himself the same way Fujisaki did?"

"You wish. Speaking of which, Seguchi-san called while you were in the bathroom. Mr. K, Sakuma-san, and Alex are here and they brought Fujisaki with them. Though don't kill yourself returning the call; everyone's asleep and Seguchi-san saw Fujisaki's condition and brought him to the rehab center right after he called."

"Is that your news?"

"No. First, I got to meet my biggest fan today. He nearly had a heart attack when he met me. He's Hiro's new assignment, and I'm the reason he wants to sing. He isn't evil at all. Not that I can tell, anyway. Certainly strange, and there's something familiar about him, but he seemed nice enough to me."

"That's wonderful. Is that it? Because I'd like to finish this novel sometime this century. It's already late," Yuki muttered with no enthusiasm or sincerity (or even a clue that would let Shuichi know he was at least listening to him) as he continued to type.

"No. The second bit of information Hiro gave me was that Chen Quon Yue, my biggest fan, is interested in Tokui of all people," Shuichi announced, forgetting the boy in question was in the closet. "Hiro told him to stay away from him, but Chen-san started saying how he seems hurt and that he knows what it's like to be hurt and that he wants to help. He seemed really sincere, I guess, because he got really defensive and then stomped away before Hiro could say anything or ask him about it."

Yuki stopped typing and turned to face Shuichi. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

Shuichi shrugged. "Everything Hiro tells me about him is bad, but I personally don't see anything bad about him. But then, he doesn't like you, either, and I love you. When I shook his hand it was all cut up, though. He tried to hide it from me at first. Hiro says he did it himself playing knife games because he has no feeling in his hands, but it definitely supports the theory of him being hurt."

Yuki nodded, thinking for a moment. "He could be good for Tokui. I mean, he doesn't really have an friends. He doesn't talk to anyone but me and his sister. Maybe someone who can sympathize and understand is just what he needs."

"If Tokui is capable of making friends. He's a good, decent, sweet person, but try telling him that."

Yuki sighed. It was a sad but true fact about his nephew: the boy had horribly low self-esteem with no chance of ever gaining self-confidence. It would be a miracle to get him to trust others, and an impossibility to get him to like himself. Not sure of what else to say or do, he continued typing.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too. But who knows? Miracles do occasionally happen."

What they didn't know was that the boy in the closet was listening to every word they said...and taking it to heart. Tokui knew they were worried and that they meant well, but it hurt him nonetheless to hear them talking about his lack of social skills. And how could a stranger who knew nothing of him possibly like him? If this strange person really did like him, even just a little, Tokui might indulge him slightly, if just to be nice. That is, if this person liked him enough to actively search for him. He hated to see others hurt, and from what Shuichi said (and Hiro confirmed) this man was hurting.

Swallowing, Tokui resumed his scribbling on the notepad in front of him.

Hiro didn't bother kicking the slushy snow off of his shoes as he walked in and looked at the slip of paper in his hand. Yes, this was the correct address. He looked at his surroundings again and sighed. He'd hoped he'd been wrong, but he wasn't. He was inside a dimly lit and very cold and damp corridor of an apartment building. There was a stairwell that wrapped around the wall all the way up to the last floor, with a single door each floor in front of a balcony-like extension of the stairs, including the ground floor. Graffiti in several different languages was scribbled on the walls, and the floor was stained different colors (Hiro didn't want to think about what had made them).

He began to trek up the stairs, wondering if they were going to give out as they creaked beneath him. At the end of a few ledges were people slumped over, many without jackets and holding bottles. He kicked bottles and cans out of the way every time he walked down a new ledge to a new set of stairs.

Hiro finally got to the fourth door and hesitated before knocking, as he could hear loud fighting between two men in a language he couldn't understand on the other side. He finally knocked, and almost immediately a tall, broad, tanned, and intimidating man with glassy dark eyes and messy short brown hair answered the door, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans even though the draft from the apartment was just as chilly as the one in the hall.

"Excuse me, but does Chen-san live here?" Hiro asked nervously.

The man gave him a confused looked before saying "Dùi bù qi, wo bù míng bái."

Hiro blinked, then tried to think of how to phrase what he wanted to ask. "Does Chen Quon Yue live here. Chen Quon Yue."

The man nodded, then turned to look into the apartment. "Quon Yue! Moon!"

"Yat jan!" was the response from somewhere in the apartment. Finally Quon Yue appeared, wearing blue boxer shorts and a white tank top. For the first time Hiro could see that he had several scars on his shoulders and chest, and he had a feeling whoever gave them to him had positioned them so they could be easily hidden by a shirt. His hair had been separated once again, and the two colors were in separate braids, and all of his jewelry was still in place. His eyes turned from the angry ice-blue color to the mischievous bright blue color, and there was blood leaking from a small cut on the corner of his right one.

"Mr. Suit!" Quon Yue exclaimed with genuine surprise. "You're lucky you didn't get mugged four times on the way up the stairs alone dressed like that. Get in here."

Hiro hesitated (especially since the other man was glaring at him) and stepped in, Quon Yue shutting the door behind him.

The man looked from Hiro to Quon Yue, his eyes angry. "Kui jiaò shén me míng zì?"

"Kui jiaò Nakano Hiroshi. Hui yi ga!"

"Cuò wù! Nei hui!"

The man sat on the couch and glared, and Quon Yue sighed deeply. "I told you he was stupid. That's my cousin, Lún Si, by the way."

"Did he..?" Hiro started, pointing at the cut.

"Huh?" Quon Yue asked, then he touched the corner of his eye, looking at the blood. "Damn. No, he didn't. He's so stupid he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with those meaty paws of his. I was getting a glass out of the cupboard when we started fighting and dropped it, and when I went to pick up the pieces I hit my head on the counter."

Hiro didn't believe him, but he really wasn't in any position to question his judgement. He looked around the tiny apartment, which was cold and smelled damp and musty, much like a cave. The ceiling was so low Hiro and Lún Si's heads were mere centimeters from touching it, and the carpet was threadbare and an ugly brown color that still looked dirty and stained though it should have hid it. The only furniture was a bed and clock through an open door on the other end of the room, a card table and two folding chairs in the kitchen, and in the living room a horrible green-and-brown plaid couch, a TV tray with a lamp without a lampshade resting on it, and another TV tray holding a black-and-white television set with large antenna sprouting from it. The television set was turned on, though Lún Si had no way of understanding what was being said as he watched intently, eating what appeared to be a bowl of cereal. Next to the entrance of the apartment was a door to what Hiro assumed was some kind of closet, but strangely enough it didn't have a doorknob. There was only one other door, and Hiro assumed that lead to the bathroom, though he wasn't going to ask to use it to find out.

"I assume this wasn't a courtesy call," Quon Yue said idly, picking up a wet washcloth and wiping off the tacky yellow Formica countertop, though it still didn't look clean. "You're on the wrong side of the tracks."

Hiro sighed. "I wanted to apologize for what I said to you earlier. You're right; I don't know anything about you. But what I do know I don't like. Maybe if I got to know you better I'd like you better, but until then I won't. And I really think it's best if you stay away from Tokui. He has horribly self-esteem and always thinks he's doing something wrong, especially if someone is watching him. You suddenly start paying attention to him he'll quite possibly have a panic attack."

Quon Yue sighed deeply, motioned to the table (Hiro hesitated before taking a seat, disliking how the metal of the chair bent a little beneath his weight), and opened the refrigerator. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Soda. Beer. Water. Possibly milk if the moron didn't put an empty carton back into the fridge as he tends to do."

"Soda sounds fine. I'm driving."

Quon Yue suddenly started laughing as he slid the soda across the table and lit a cigarette. "If you parked your car in this neighborhood, you're walking home. If it's still there when you get back down there it'll be stripped. I guarantee it."

Hiro groaned at his own stupidity. Most of the people who lived in this part of the district were dirt poor and desperate enough to strip a stranger's car for cash, if they didn't find it nice enough to just steal the whole thing.

"That's what happens when you make the mistake of driving yourself into a bad neighborhood," Quon Yue taunted. He flicked his ashes onto the floor and opened his own can of soda. "I grew up here. In this very apartment. I'm used to it. Now you know why I had to worry about getting beat up. Just beat up if I was lucky. I was little, cute, and foreign. Three strikes against me right there."

"How did you come to own this apartment if you were raised here?" Hiro asked, looking around and wondering where there was room for Quon Yue and his previously mentioned mother and stepfather. He also found himself wondering where Quon Yue and Lún Si slept.

Quon Yue dropped his cigarette on the floor. "My stepfather died. My mother moved back to China. I was 13, didn't know how to find a new apartment, and my family technically owns this one so I just stayed."

"You were abandoned when you were 13?"

"That's one way of putting it, yes. Right after it happened I went temporarily insane and tried to find my father for about four months. Then I snapped out of it, realized if he wanted nothing to do with me up to that point there was more a chance of a snowstorm in hell than of him feeling sorry for me and taking me in, and started to put my life together. Slowly, piece by piece. That's right around the time I discovered Shindou-san, too. Sadly, that was the last year you were touring, though, so all I had were tapes and tabloids."

Hiro swallowed and looked at Quon Yue's eyes, which were the distant dark blue color that meant the younger man was reminiscing. He was hoping that he had just dreamed what Quon Yue had said about his father, since it was difficult enough for him to like him without remembering who had been responsible for his existence in the first place. But Hiro also knew that he deserved to know who his father was and what he had done. It might even help him to know that having Aizawa Tachi as a paternal influence wouldn't have benefited him, and he seemed the type to enjoy the irony of his idol being the one who his father had hated so much he had destroyed his own career in an attempt to destroy him.

"I know your father," Hiro said in a tone that he hoped sounded offhand, like he were merely discussing the color of the drapes.

Quon Yue choked on his swallow of soda and dropped his cigarette into the soda can, making a slight sizzle. "You're bullshitting me."

Hiro shook his. "Aizawa Tachi was the leader of the band ASK. They were our rivals when we first came out. We being Bad Luck, of course. I also know what he did that got ASK thrown out of NG."

Quon Yue nodded and looked down at the table. "What did he do?"

"I don't think you want to know."

"I do. I want to know who my father was, what he was like, so I can do and be the complete opposite."

"Trust me: you are already the polar opposite of Aizawa Tachi except for your arrogance and smug attitude."

"Tell me. Please. I have a right to know."

Hiro took a deep, shuddering breath, regretting having brought up the topic in the first place. "Bad Luck was much more spontaneous than ASK, and as a result we became much more famous much faster. Aizawa was a spiteful, jealous man, not content to be runner-up to some newcomers when things were just starting to go his way. And most of all, he hated Shuichi. He hated his music, he hated his style, he hated his spontaneous nature. He hated everything about him. And he especially hated the way Shuichi went out of his way to pretend he was no one when they met in person. So one night, after Shuichi had a fight with Yuki Eiri and was thrown out of his house, he came to see me, got a little drunk, and I told him to go home because chances were things had blown over. When he went to get on the subway he wasn't disguised and was recognized, and it was Aizawa who saved him from a crowd of fangirls. He brought Shuichi to his apartment and..."

Hiro stopped. It wasn't his story to tell, and Shuichi would never actually get into detail about what had happened. Hiro had pieced it together from the film Yuki Eiri had recovered and given to him, knowing that if anyone could be trusted with that horrible piece of evidence it was Shuichi's best friend. Because Shuichi would never directly discuss what had happened to him, Hiro had used a darkroom from NG's public relations department to develop the film himself when the curiosity got the best of him. He was hardly able to look at the pictures before he burned them and the negatives and spit on the ashes. But even though it was Shuichi's story to tell and Hiro had no right to tell it, Quon Yue did have a right to know what his father had done. So he licked his lips and continued.

"He hired two men to take Shuichi into a parking garage. They attacked him. Beat him. And worse. And all the while Aizawa just took pictures, planning to use the evidence against Shuichi. You see, he told Shuichi he would give the film to the press and tell them it was Yuki Eiri's fault that it had happened unless Shuichi quit Bad Luck. And Shuichi was going to do just that rather than ruin his lover's reputation, but Yuki Eiri recovered the film and I destroyed it. But they left Shuichi with barely enough strength to crawl over across the street from my house and call me there. I was ready to kill someone when I saw what had been done to him. But what happened afterward was Yuki Eiri got the film back, and Seguchi Touma, not pleased at what Aizawa had done at all, pushed him in front of an oncoming car. The car stopped, but Aizawa had an emotional breakdown and spent a year and a half in a psychiatric hospital. After that, I have no idea what happened to him or where he went. I don't even know if he's still in the country."

Quon Yue was very still. And very quiet. His eyes were still dark blue as he looked at nothing, the pupil of his defective eye twitching madly. Finally, he swallowed and, without looking up, whispered "Please tell me my eye defect didn't come from him."

Hiro drew in a deep breath. "His nickname was Lazy Eye."

Amai looked across the living room at the older boy stretched along the couch. They were watching some anime (something that Amai had never had an interest in) on her father's large-screen TV but she was keeping her attention on Alex (something that did interest her a great deal).

"So...um...how do you like Japan?" Amai asked.

Alex shrugged. "I haven't really had a chance to see it yet. I'll get back to you on that."

Amai cursed softly. Alex hadn't been rude when he had said that (in fact, he'd been quite friendly) but she had hoped to divert his attention from the television. She noticed he was playing with the dark blue ribbon around the neck of the bunny he was holding against him as he kept his blue-violet gaze fixed on the program.

"That's a nice bunny. Where'd you get it?" she asked.

Alex widened his eyes and looked down at the stuffed animal. "This? This is Shatekijou, Kumagorou's son. He's named after where my Dad works. I've always had him." He held up the bunny, grinning and making it wave it's paw. He changed the pitch of his voice to say "nice to meet you, Amai!", then diverted his gaze back to the television.

Amai just gaped at the pair. She'd heard her father telling stories of Sakuma Ryuuichi and Kumagorou (he was always quick to bring up that no one had any way of knowing that Kumagorou wasn't a magical bunny that spoke through Ryuuichi, but Amai had a feeling he was trying to justify his best friend's apparent insanity) but she had no idea his son suffered from the same delusion. He seemed to genuinely believe that "Shatekijou" was alive and the son of Kumagorou, and more to the point, he seemed to believe that Kumagorou was alive and communicated through his own father.

But Shatekijou aside, Alex was still a friendly person, and really, his delusion just made him seem all that much sweeter and more endearing. And besides, she'd never met a boy she found to be as attractive as Alexander Sakuma-Winchester, and she was willing to overlook any of his quirks if it meant having a chance to get closer to him.

"I thought you were going to work today?" Alex asked at last as a commercial came on.

"This is work," Amai told him. He gave her a confused look, and she decided to clarify. "Tousan told me to stay here today and get to know you better so I can decide if I want to work with you as Neo Grasper or not. My CD is finished, and my first live concert is a week and a half away with my CD release date just a day before, so I'm not in any real hurry. I don't think I can sound any better than I do right now, certainly can't sound worse, and a day off wouldn't kill me after a year of steady working. And dear lord, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"It's all right. I don't mind. I tend to ramble about things, too."

Amai sighed, both from relief and humiliation at having made an ass of herself in front of the older, attractive, and (Shatekijou aside) sophisticated boy. She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat and summoned as much courage as she had ever had in her life (mostly by thinking of how her father would handle this or any situation) and said in a cool, even tone "my father's engagement party is on Saturday. If you're going maybe we could go together."

There was a few moments of silence while Amai held her breath. All of her life she had either been focused on music, her father, or her brother that she had never really made friends, much less asked a boy she hardly knew out on a date.

"Sounds like a plan," Alex said at last. "Don't want to show up at the social event of the season without a date, after all. We'd both look like losers then."

Amai heaved a huge (though, thankfully, unnoticed) sigh of relief, fighting the blush crawling to her cheeks. "All right. A date it is."

Hiro had known at the time he would regret it. He had had known it before, he had known it during, and he certainly knew it after. But in the heat of the moment he hadn't been able to resist.

It had started simple enough. Quon Yue had put on a pair of jeans (though no other top or even a jacket) and offered to walk him downstairs to see if his car was there. When is wasn't, Quon Yue had offered to talk to the neighborhood car thieves to see which one had it and call in some favors to get it back (preferably in tact). It took them an hour and a half to interrogate three car thieves (one of which had aimed a gun at Hiro's head and asked for all his money before noticing Quon Yue standing next to him) before they found one who had it (also of Chinese decent, as Quon Yue had spoken to him in either Cantonese or Mandarin). They had already taken it in back and started to strip it, but on Quon Yue's order they quickly reassembled the car and allowed Hiro to drive off in it.

Hiro had offered the younger man a ride home in his car, but seeing how his deathly-pale skin began to color from the heat, he drove past the rickety apartment building to the other end of the district, where his own apartment was waiting for him.

And that was when it had happened...

After allowing Quon Yue to get himself settled in (he'd been fascinated by the large bathtub, fully stocked refrigerator, huge collection of Bad Luck albums, videos, articles, and awards, and a satellite dish that got not only programs from all over Japan, but from the Pacific coast of America and China as well), Hiro had offered him a drink or something to eat. After a quick dinner, the pair had settled in to watch a Chinese program (Hiro had tried to keep up using the action and Quon Yue's infrequent and badly timed translations). Finally, after Hiro had announced he was going to bed and Quon Yue could help himself to anything in the house, Quon Yue had just approached him, breathed "I want you" in his ear, and before Hiro could control himself he was in bed with the younger man.

It hadn't been a bad experience. In fact, it was some of the best (if meaningless) sex Hiro had ever had. Quon Yue was very experienced, and after a little trouble deciding who would be on top, Quon Yue had demonstrated his mastery of both positions. But it wasn't the sex itself that Hiro regretted. It was the fact that Quon Yue was half his age (and, in his mind, still a boy), the son of a man he had hated for at least seventeen years, and that they already had a shaky relationship that was closer to mutual respect and tolerance than anything close to friendship and that they still had to work together each day. Hiro was sure his fragile bond based on respect was probably broken now, and, as he sat in the rehearsal room across from the man in question (Seguchi Touma had informed them personally, in a voice that implied if she did it again she'd be fired, that Kyousei Himeko would not be joining them) Hiro was sure the man was already planning to take advantage of the knowledge of what he had done.

But to his surprise, Quon Yue said nothing about what had transpired the night before, neither before or after recording some more tracks for his CD. The younger man was wearing the jeans he had thrown on the day before, but with a white T-shirt that belonged to Hiro, his hair in a loose ponytail that matched the older man's.

Quon Yue stood and put out his cigarette on the edge of the trashcan, his eyes the neutral black. "Are we finished?" he asked coolly as Hiro finished filling out his paperwork.

"Just about. We have to get you a live performance, probably opening for someone else. But I think I have that covered."

"That's good. Then I'll be going."

Hiro watched in shock as Quon Yue walked toward the door. "Is that all you're going to say? What about last night?" he asked before he could leave, wanting to find out what was on the younger man's mind before he just left for the day.

"Oh, thank you for your hospitality. I'll return your shirt as soon as I can. Hopefully when I am famous I can live in a place as nice as yours."

"Not that. I mean the other thing. What we did."

Quon Yue sighed and leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms and examining his fingernails. "Shindou-san was a fool to give up sleeping with you whenever he wanted, no strings attached."

"That's it?"

"What did you want me to do? Look, you're older than me, yes. But I've slept with men who are older than you are. I have since I was much younger than I am now. It's a little awkward that I work with you, yes, but my sex life and my daily routine are two very different things. I'm at my cousin's throat most of the day and vice versa, but don't think we haven't slept together- though I should note that's largely against my will- and I've met people I absolutely adore that I haven't slept with. I'd love to sleep with Shindou-san, but there is more of a chance of you taking up guitar again and plotting a Bad Luck comeback tour. But that doesn't bother me. And the fact that I slept with you last night doesn't bother me, either. It was great sex, something I've been without lately, and I was glad for the experience. So don't go tearing yourself up over it because your sense of moral decency dictates what we did was wrong. I have no regrets, and neither should you."

Hiro was just left gaping at the empty doorframe as Quon Yue disappeared into the hallway.

Tokui was used to having the stairwells of the NG building to himself, as only maintenance ever used the stairs, and that was only after normal business hours. So when he literally ran into the man known as Chen Quon Yue he was every bit as surprised as he was frightened.

At first Quon Yue's eyes were wide and surprised violet, but they softened to a much more pleasant sky blue as he smiled and held out his hand to the boy. Tokui looked at the pale, cold, and still scabbed-over appendage, taking it hesitantly (only because he thought it was what he was supposed to do).

"It's my lucky day. And here I thought finding you was going to be hard," Quon Yue said brightly. He seemed to notice Tokui's gaze was fixed on his defective left eye, and his smile wavered temporarily. "Don't worry about it. It's a genetic thing, apparently. Had it all my life. You didn't knock me screwy or anything like that."

Tokui swallowed and nodded. Part of him wanted to turn and run from the strange man, at least to somewhere more public. But the larger part of him found, much to his own surprise, that he was fascinated by the unusual person who dressed and acted how he wanted with no regard for others.

"I'm Chen Quon Yue, by the way," he said, bowing slightly. "You can call me either Chen or Quon Yue. Whichever is easier to say."

Tokui also bowed slightly. "Seguchi Tokui," he said softly.

"So you are the elusive Tokui!" Quon Yue exclaimed, as if just coming to a realization. "Why aren't you in a closet somewhere?"

Tokui looked down at his feet. "Th-that's where I was going..."

"Oh. Can I come?" Quon Yue asked.

Tokui gasped. No one had ever asked to accompany him to his hiding places before. When he was very little Amai used to join him, but she'd never ask. She'd just open the door, sit down, and start talking, with no regard for what he was doing. Tokui wasn't sure he wanted to share his hide-out, but he was afraid if he turned down the fascinating Chen Quon Yue he would lose his one and only chance to get to know him, and his instincts were telling him that, strange as he might appear to be, he was not only harmless, but possibly a strong ally.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Though word of warning: I'm a big hair-triggered, so if you touch me in the hall or jump me I'll pull my knife on you. I won't hurt you, though," Quon Yue explained.

"Um...all right," Tokui said slowly. He continued walking down the stairs, aware of Quon Yue's presence behind him. It was a presence that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, but not in a bad way. He opened the door to the second floor, peered on the other side, and slinked to the nearest open door. The light was off, and no one was in it, so he darted toward the closet, dimly aware of Quon Yue mimicking his moves. As soon as they were in the closet, Tokui took out his flashlight and turned it on, taking his inhaler from his satchel and taking in two deep inhalations.

Quon Yue looked around the small, cramped space that barely had enough from for the two teens. He appeared to be shaking a bit, much to Tokui's surprise. "I never much liked closets," Quon Yue confessed. "Bad memories. I'll spare you the details. So, this is what it's like to be a member of an exclusive club..."

"Beg pardon?" Tokui asked, sincerely taken off guard.

"Well, how many other people have you let come into the closet with you? Not many, if any, I figure..." Quon Yue said, more to himself than to the other boy.

"Um...just you and my sister. And my sister invited herself."

"That's what I thought."

There was a few moments of awkward silence, Tokui just glaring at the other, and Quon Yue looking around the dark surroundings.

"Nakano-san says you've been hurt," he said solemnly as his eyes turned dark blue. "That's why I wanted to find you." Tokui didn't say anything, so he continued. "When I was a little kid, I was hurt very badly and very often. I think I can understand. And understanding is step one to friendship. Well, at least, I think it is. I have about as many friends as you do. If you have some, then I have less."

Tokui swallowed. He hated talking about himself. As long as he talked about himself, he had to deal with how different and messed up he was. So he just nodded, hoping the subject would be dropped.

"Step two to friendship, as I understand it, is trust. So we have those two things. Step three is honesty, step four is knowing one another as well as you know yourself. We've got two out of four down, and that's enough for me. I assume the rest kind of comes naturally. Is that enough for you?"

Tokui's head was spinning. He found himself nodding dumbly before he could consider if he wanted Quon Yue as a friend or not. Since he had never personally had any friends, he wasn't sure what that entailed, though he had a feeling that Quon Yue was telling the truth when he said he had as much experience as he did.

"Good. We're friends. Glad we've settled that," Quon Yue said with a curt nod. "Now, I am going to step out for a cigarette. I don't like the looks of that inhaler and it'd be mean to smoke in here with you having breathing problems. Filthy habit. I should quit. When I was eleven some older kids thought it would be funny if they got a cute little kid to smoke a cigarette, and threatened to beat the shit out of me if I didn't smoke an entire one. It's true when they say one is enough to get hooked."

Quon Yue stood and opened the door, shutting it behind him as he lit a cigarette. Tokui opened to door a crack to make sure Quon Yue wasn't going to leave so soon. He could hardly believe it: he had never trusted anyone so much in his life, and now he was trusting a complete stranger.

But that didn't matter. He had a friend now, and that was what mattered.

End of Chapter Seven

Translations-

Dùi bù qi, wo bù míng bái. - I'm sorry, I don't understand.

Moon!- Door!

Yat jan!- Just a second!

Kui jiaò shén me míng zì?- Who is he?

Kui jiaò Nakano Hiroshi. Hui yi ga!- He is Nakano Hiroshi. Go now!

Cuò wù! Nei hui!- No! You go!


	8. Chapter 8

Heart's Façade

Chapter Eight: New and Old

Amai grinned as she put the dish in front of her twin brother. "Homemade macaroni and cheese, made with real cheese instead of the processed stuff you're allergic to, and baked. Your favorite."

Tokui picked up the fork and took a bite. It was one of his favorite dishes, but not his absolute favorite. "It's not my favorite," he said quietly. "But it's good."

"Too bad Eiri-ojisan and Shuichi aren't here. I made enough for them," Amai prattled on, scooping some onto her own plate. Like her father she was a great cook, but she only cooked if she was upset or excited. By the way she kept talking cheerfully about anything and seemed to be walking on air, Tokui had to guess it was the latter.

Ordinarily Amai didn't like to spend time at her uncle's apartment. Not only did she prefer to be near her father, but Tokui had a feeling Yuki and Shuichi's relationship made her feel uncomfortable. Despite her father being openly bisexual and most of his friends and acquaintances being gay or bisexual, Amai had never been the most understanding person on earth. Even if she never openly condemned alternative lifestyles (probably because of her father), she still did her best to avoid the people who practiced them or, failing that, the subject. The only reason she was here today was to baby-sit her brother while Yuki and Shuichi went somewhere to be alone ("keep him company" was the term Yuki had used, but Tokui knew better).

"I heard that you made a friend," Amai said between bites of food with a slight lilt in her voice, a sly grin spreading across her face. She took off her glasses she had used when reading the recipe long enough to see her brother start blushing, and continued. "So what's his sign?"

Tokui almost rolled his eyes. Only his sister would ask for someone's astrological sign before even finding out their name. "I don't know. I didn't ask for his birthdate," he answered softly.

"I hope he's a Gemini. Then the mystery would be solved," she continued. Tokui didn't ask what the mystery was, knowing she'd tell him anyway. And sure enough, she did. "When I did your chart this morning Gemini was in the eleventh house. That means you are going to cross paths with a Gemini soon, mostly likely for an extended period of time. Not in a romantic sense, of course. Also, Virgo and Scorpio happen to be in the same house this month. I discovered that when I did your chart, Tousan's chart, and Sakano-san's chart. That's rare, because Scorpio and Virgo are close to each other with only Libra between them so they seldom appear in the same place on a chart. When I saw it in your chart I didn't pay attention to it, since your charts have never come out very accurate, anyway. Comes from being born in the cusp. You keep coming out with more readings for Leo when you are clearly Virgo. But it's in Tousan and Sakano-san's, too. That means if you want to ask Tousan for anything right now is a good time, since it's the closest to him you'll ever get. It's also the closest he'll ever get to Sakano-san, so I think that's influencing why he chose this month to marry her. He'll regret it once Virgo and Scorpio move back to their usual positions. As a rule Virgos tend to lean on Scorpios too much and rely on them for too many things, and Scorpios are too hot-headed and independent to want to take that. Tousan would be much better served by a...hmm...Scorpio is a hard sign to find a match for. I'd have to say Pisces, since they are emotional but independent and calm, or with his opposite sign, Taurus. They might clash at first, but opposite signs usually work out well."

"Who would I work well with?" Tokui asked, though he wasn't sure he was really interested. Like most everyone else Amai tried to discuss astrology with, he didn't really believe in it. Only his father and Yuki had ever told her they didn't believe in it, and Yuki hadn't even wanted to give her his date, time, and place of birth (she'd still acquired them from her mother in the end).

"You would do well with...well, I can't be entirely sure. Like I said, your cusp birthdate makes it hard to pick a specific sign for you, but your Virgo traits make me want to take things as I would a full Virgo. You're also awfully needy, even by Virgo standards. I'd have to say...Pisces. Your opposite sign. Calm, cool, rational, but emotional and empathetic. Creative and poetic. Someone who would sympathize with you. Eiri-ojisan is a Pisces, which might explain why you're so close. And Gemini, if your friend is a Gemini, could be beneficial for you. Gemini, along with the other air signs, are very nice and sympathetic, but a bit on the dense side unless you tell them what's wrong. Geminis are also two-faced. It's the sign of the twins, after all, so they in essence have a split personality, and not in a good way. That means you have to watch out for them saying one thing and meaning another. Also, air signs tend to be really off the wall and strange, which makes them clash with Virgos and other earth-signs, which are more down-to-earth and studious, but usually they clash in a good way."

Tokui just nodded and stirred up his food before forcing himself to take another bite. He'd never been one to eat much, anyway.

"I did Eiri-ojisan's and Shuichi's this morning, too. Boy, do I not envy you. Pisces and Aries are two signs that don't get along, anyway, but this weird Scorpio-Virgo thing pushed Pisces and Aries away from each other. That means they'll be at each other's throats until the sign of Scorpio ends and the sign of Sagittarius begins- November 23. Us being under the sign of Scorpio right now also means Tousan will be more empowered, and Scorpios are scary enough without feeling more empowered. I might just be saying that because Tousan and I aren't on good terms right now, though. Not surprising. When I did my chart Scorpio was only 15 degrees in the fourth house. That means we won't get along for a while. However, Aquarius being 20 degrees in the fifth house proved handy, because my date to Tousan's engagement party is an Aquarius, and if things go well he's the man I want to marry. Aquarius is my opposite sign, so I should have been seeking one the entire time. It'll be shaky, of course, since Leos by nature aren't very tolerant people and Aquarians tend to be nuts, but I'm willing to try to make it work."

Tokui almost choked on his macaroni and cheese. "You have a date? With who?"

A wistful smile crossed Amai's face. "Alexander Sakuma-Winchester," she said in a dreamy voice, when she usually said it haughtily to mock him. She stared off into space (most likely literally) for a few moments before a look of realization crossed her face. "You should bring your friend! Not as a date, of course, because that would ruin your friendship. Don't pursue romance unless Gemini appears in your fifth house. If he's a Gemini at all. But as a guest. I mean, you hate parties and always end up hiding in the coat closet, anyway, so at least you won't be alone."

Tokui could feel his cheeks burning. "I don't think Tousan would want him there."

"It's not about what Tousan wants. He put on all the invitations that everyone on the guest list could bring one guest of their choice. It's your choice if you want him there. Who is he, anyway? And how did you meet?"

So now she asks, Tokui thought, but out loud he said "his name is Chen Quon Yue. He is a singer signed on to NG, and he saw me once when I was playing Tousan's piano and decided that he liked me, so earlier today he ran into me and we talked."

"I've heard of that guy. Nakano-san is managing him. He doesn't like him all that much."

"Nakano-san doesn't like Tousan or Eiri-ojisan, either."

"Touché."

"Besides, he was nice to me. And he's the only person who has ever actively searched for me without expecting a reward from Tousan for finding me." When Amai cleared his throat, he sighed and amended "Besides you. But he asked me if I wanted him around. You always just took for granted that I wanted you near me."

"And you don't want me around?"

"Of course I do! But the point is you just assume I do without me giving any indication that I want or need you by my side, and it makes me uncomfortable when you just barge into closets while I'm reading or try to take my writing before it's ready to show anyone!"

"Sorry," Amai muttered insincerely, taking another bite of macaroni and cheese. The corner of her mouth tugged upward slightly. "Should have known that Virgo appearing in the third house on my chart would mean we'd end up arguing by the end of the day. I just figured that one wouldn't happen because you're...well, you." She dropped her chopsticks into her bowl and pushed it away. "Well, that's why I'm an astrologer and not a fortune teller."

Tokui didn't force the issue. Though he wanted to, he was a non-confrontational person and besides that Amai was notorious for her skills at debate, and engaging her in an argument would get him no where fast. He picked at his food some more, giving every bit of their conversation deep thought before he spoke again (as he tended to to make sure he didn't have to apologize for anything he had said). "Why did you assume I wanted romance with Quon Yue?" he asked finally.

Amai shrugged. "You never talk to anyone unless you really like them. Any sighted person who has seen you in the same room with him knows you have a crush on Nakano-san. And the only other people you really talk to are me and Eiri-ojisan. Now you suddenly come home talking about a friend...well, you must want more than an innocent friendship. And how come you only get crushes on guys, anyway? You have to stop hanging around here so much. They're rubbing off on you."

Tokui suddenly felt a flash of anger. "My preferences have nothing to do with Eiri-ojisan and Shindou-san! They are wonderful people who love me and take care of me and would do anything for me! They are making a huge sacrifice, something I haven't seen you doing lately! And if I am not mistaken, that boy you like has grown up around two men who happen to be lovers! Perhaps you should question his preferences!"

And with that, Tokui stood and stomped off toward Yuki's office, walking into his closet and shutting the door. He slid the slide lock he'd put there himself into place so that Amai couldn't follow him in and threw himself onto his bed, crying until he went to sleep. His sister was one of the few allies he had in the world, and he had just pushed her away like everyone else...

Hiro sat down on the park bench, grateful for his warm coat and the steaming cup of coffee in his bare hands. Usually he didn't like to sit outdoors (especially in cold weather) but he had decided after visiting a coffee vendor that sitting on an empty park bench where there was less chance of him being bothered would be better than sitting in the coffee shop full of noisy people and waiters eager to please.

Despite the frigid weather there were several children playing in the snow that had covered the park, some making snowmen or snowforts, and others (mostly boys) engaging in a snowball fight. Hiro had a feeling they were local children from the absence of adult supervision, but he couldn't help but feel he had to act as chaperone as long as he was sitting there doing nothing else.

A bump against his leg almost startled Hiro enough to drop his coffee. He looked down to see a small girl, about six years old, looking up at him with wide, dark blue eyes. She had a rather sweet face and would probably grow up to be a very beautiful woman, and held behind her pink headband with attached earmuffs that matched her bright pink coat was long, dark brown hair. Somehow, she looked quite familiar to Hiro, though he wasn't sure how. As he examined her, she seemed to freeze and return his gaze. Finally she shook her head and said "I'm sorry, mister, but the boys were chasing me."

Hiro smiled at the little girl. "It's all right," he said cheerfully. "And those boys probably think you're pretty. That's why they are chasing you."

She scrunched her face up and made a disgusted face. "Yuck! Boys are icky! They only like to chase me so they can see me fall down and cry and they can laugh. But I don't cry, so those yucky boys have nothing to laugh at!"

"Asako!" a woman's voice called out. "Asako, where are you?"

"Over here, Mama!" the little girl (obviously named Asako) called out in response. She began to walk in the direction of the voice, only to be met halfway by her mother.

"Asako, how many times have I told you not to talk...to...strangers..." the woman's voice trailed off when she saw Hiro, and Hiro blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things, for standing in front of him, still with beautiful long brown hair (though going gray), a face that men would kill over, and gorgeous deep blue eyes, though with her figure altered by being obviously pregnant, was the woman he knew as Usami Ayaka. Behind her Hiro could see a pair of dark eyes barely looking up at him through too-long black bangs though the rest of the child was carefully hidden behind it's mother, and against her hip she was holding a smaller child of about two with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes, obviously female from the lavender snowsuit she wore.

"Ayaka..." Hiro breathed out at last.

Ayaka nodded. "Hiro. It's been a while." She turned to the older girl and handed her the baby. "Asako, take Naoko to find your sisters and play. And stay where I can see you."

Asako nodded and put her little sister down, taking her hand and helping her wade through the semi-deep snow over to where more children were playing. Ayaka picked up the child hidden behind her and placed it on her lap as she sat on the bench next to Hiro. The child yawned and buried it's face in its mother's chest, and Hiro realized he couldn't tell if it was male or female. It had shoulder-length dark hair, large dark eyes, and wore all yellow.

"So...um...I can see you have quite the group," Hiro said conversationally, when in all actuality he wanted to demand how she could leave him so easily without even a second glance back in his direction.

Ayaka managed a small, nervous smile. "Yes. Five, with number six on the way. Another girl, sadly. My husband isn't too happy. Little Hiro here is our only boy, but he's sick and very shy and, as you can see, a bit of a mama's boy."

"Hiro?"

"Katsuhiro," Ayaka further clarified. "They are all two years apart, so it seems I will be changing diapers for the rest of my life. Kaori is ten, Kozue is eight, Asako is six, Hiro is four, and Naoko just turned two."

"Wow. That's...great," Hiro forced, though all he could feel was sadness that this wasn't his family. He actually loved kids and wouldn't mind having one of his own, but if he couldn't even find a date the prospect of children seemed quite unlikely, especially at his age. "I just heard recently you lived in this district."

Ayaka nodded. "Yes. When Father died my husband inherited his business and expanded it all through Japan and relocated the headquarters to Tokyo where most of the profit comes from. It's been a bit of an adjustment for the kids, but I think they are starting to enjoy it."

"That's great," Hiro repeated, hoping Ayaka thought he sounded more sincere than he thought he did.

"So what are you doing with yourself these days?" Ayaka asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Hiro pointedly looked down at his now nearly cold coffee as he spoke. "Retired from music, bought myself a new place, started working at NG as a manager. Been keeping myself busy, mostly."

"Have you found anyone else? I heard that you broke up with that keyboardist."

Hiro wanted to say "yes, I married a beautiful, rich woman and we have eight kids and a storybook romance", but he knew he couldn't lie. Not only would that be childish, but he knew he couldn't get away with it. Famous or not, what were the chances of meeting another beautiful, rich girl who loved him (or, at least, he thought loved him)? The first time had been nothing but dumb luck, and he wasn't going to hold his breath and pray for a miracle. So he opted for the truth...sort of.

"No. I've been too busy for something serious, really," he explained, hoping he didn't sound like sixteen years, a marriage, and six kids later he still hoped Ayaka would come to her senses and return to him.

Ayaka just nodded. "It's good you've been busy, anyway." Awkward silence. Then she asked him a question that almost made him stand and leave: "How is Eiri-san?"

Hiro would have left, but he looked down at the small child who coincidentally had the same nickname as him and changed his mind. For some reason he didn't want to seem rude in front of him. "He's fine, I suppose. He's still with Shindou Shuichi. They're taking care of his nephew right now." Well, if he had to feel lousy he might as well take her down with him.

Ayaka nodded before finally standing up. "It was nice seeing you again, Hiro. Maybe we'll run into each other some time."

"Yeah, maybe," he all but muttered as she walked away, still holding her son against her. He fought down the urge to chase her down and force her to apologize for stringing him along for nearly a year before just abandoning him and leaving him to pick up the pieces of his life. It might not have fixed anything, but it would have at least offered him some kind of closure.

But Hiro didn't even see Ayaka disappear with her daughters, let alone return to apologize. Sighing, he threw his nearly frozen cup of coffee into the nearby trashcan and stood, walking toward his car.

Touma put his signature on the document before him and placed it in his outbox, sighing deeply as he gazed at the dauntingly large stack of folders and papers awaiting his valuable name still resting in his inbox. It seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, deciding which records would be made had to be easier and just as profitable as actually making them, right?

Unfortunately, this was a bad judgement error on his part. Not only did he walk into his chosen career blindly with no idea of what his job entailed and a gross misinterpretation of his job load, he had underestimated just how many people would turn to him with just about everything, and was surprised to find that's exactly what they were supposed to do and it was his job as president to give them either the approval they sought or put them on the right track.

Of course, more than twenty years had offered him the valuable experience he needed to run his company like a well-oiled machine, and he hoped to one day pass this wealth of experience- along with the entire company- on to his daughter. But that didn't lighten his workload any in the present.

Suddenly, the intercom on the phone on the corner of his desk buzzed. Surprised, Touma set down his folder and pushed the button to open the line of communication. "Sako, whoever it is tell them I'm very busy and not taking any calls at the moment," he said sternly before his receptionist could speak, hoping he didn't sound as annoyed as he was.

"I'm sorry, sachou, but she wouldn't leave unless I at least tried to get a hold of you," a nervous female voice explained.

Touma quirked an eyebrow. Few people could intimidate his receptionist enough to make her go back on an order from her boss. And even fewer people would have the nerve to insist he be bothered while he was working. Whoever this person was must have been damn certain he wouldn't do anything to them.

"Send them in," Touma said after taking a moment to try to figure out who it could be.

It didn't take long for the large oak doors of his office to burst open. Even Touma was startled enough to drop his pen and see who this whirlwind of fury was, every hair raising on the back of his neck as he fought to keep his outward cool. He half-expected a gun-toting psychopath to try to take him hostage, but upon realizing who it was he found he wasn't the least bit consoled.

Standing in the now wide open doors was his very angry looking ex-wife. Her hair was streaked with gray, and there were small wrinkles around her eyes from age and stress, but she was still a frightening sight. While there were a handful of people who knew that Yuki Eiri and his daughter could engage him in an argument and win, almost no one knew that the only person he had ever truly feared in his life was his strong-willed ex-wife, who, though unable to match him in a war of words, could probably easily take him in a war of fists. Not that she had done it before...

"Mika-san," he said coolly, willing his heart to return to it's normal speed and failing. In fact, when she shut the doors behind her he only got more nervous, expecting her to lash out at him for something he had done. Or she thought he had done. Or she thought he was going to do. The few traits Amai had inherited from her mother were her swiftness in jumping to conclusions and her very short and potentially deadly temper.

"Where's our son?" she asked at last, her voice chilly and even though her eyes were blazing. For a moment Touma could see the family resemblance between her and her brother, but didn't have time to dwell on that thought.

"He's at Eiri-san's and Shindou-san's," Touma answered, wondering why she was asking that question. Unless he was at the NG building or going to therapy, Tokui could always be found at his uncle's apartment.

"Then why did I see Eiri and Shindou-san at a restaurant arguing with each other less than ten minutes ago?"

Touma relaxed. Mika might be quick to jump to conclusions, but she was a very rational person once she got satisfactory answers to her questions and accusations.

"They haven't been alone since they took in Tokui, so they went out to dinner."

"Who is with him? Dammit, I thought the only reason we let them take him in was they promised to help him!"

"Amai is. Don't worry. They aren't so stupid they'll leave him in that apartment alone. And they are helping him. He's in therapy now, and he has a diagnosis and the psychiatrist is treating him. He's already made enough progress that he can be trusted not to leave NG if Shindou-san brings him here. He's even made a friend."

"So you gave our daughter to them hoping they could work the same miracle on her! Is that it! Are you giving up on both our children!" Mika cried out. Touma wasn't sure what was bringing on this sudden attack of maternal rage, and was further surprised when Mika threw herself onto the nearest couch and began sobbing.

Touma had never been good with emotions, having trained himself to hide behind a winning smile and keep a chilly distance at all times many years ago. All he could do was take the box of tissues from his desk drawer and bring them over to Mika, handing them to her. She gladly too the box and pulled out a handful, blowing her nose and wiping her eyes.

"Mika-san, Amai is just watching Tokui. I haven't given up on her. She still lives with me. And I didn't give up on Tokui, either. In fact, that's why I let Eiri-san take him. Because I was afraid if I had to sit around helpless much longer I would give up on him, and Eiri-san was his last hope."

"Where did I go wrong as a mother, Touma?" Mika sobbed. Touma flinched. She hadn't called him by his given name since they were married, and even then she had kept the same formality he used when he spoke her given name or her brother's. But once again he didn't have time to process her odd behavior before she continued her hysterics. "What did I ever do wrong? Amai has always chosen to be with you rather than me, and Tokui...he was just too damn sick, Touma! I wanted to help him but I didn't know how! And the more people told me he needed psychiatric help the angrier I got and the more I vowed I would never take him to see a psychiatrist until my younger brother had to take him away from me to help him! Am I really that bad of a mother, Touma? Am I really so horrible that my own daughter can't love me and my brother had to take my son away?"

"Mika-san, you're not a bad mother. Amai only likes to be around me because she is more like me. But she still loves you. And Tokui...not even I wanted to admit he had a problem. It's natural for parents to deny their children have problems because they don't want to think it could happen to them or their children. If someone failed him, it was me. I saw him every day, and I still didn't do anything for him. But we can undo the past. Eiri-san is taking care of him now. Even if we had gotten him help, he probably never would have been close to us. He hardly got close to his sister, and only because she practically forced herself on him and never gave up."

Mika sniffled and seemed to regain her composure, though she still didn't look pleased. Finally, she looked down at her lap and let out a slight, nervous laugh. "I just hope I do it right this time."

Touma raised an eyebrow. "'This time'?" he repeated.

Mika nodded. "My hormones were going haywire, so I went to the gynecologist to see if I was going through menopause and needed hormone replacement therapy, and she ran a pregnancy test just to make sure it was menopause and not something else and the test was positive."

Touma actually found himself speechless, moreso than he had been when he had found out she was pregnant with his baby, and even moreso than when he found out she was having twins and planned to leave him. Mika was strangely quiet until he fought to get his voice back. Then he continued to speak, as calmly as he could (and mentally cursing the shake in his voice).

"You're 46 years old, Mika-san. When it's the twins' age, you'll be 62. You'll be 64 when it graduates high school. It could conceivably grow up alongside your grandchildren."

"I already thought about all that," Mika sighed. "I don't know if I have the strength to go it alone. Most of the time Amai was with you and Tokui was in the hospital or with Eiri, even when they were little babies. But this one...I can't ask you to help me. It's not even yours. And it wouldn't be right to make Eiri help me when he is already raising one of my children for me. But I can't do it. I just can't."

"What about the father?" Touma asked, his heart suddenly aching for his ex-wife. "Does he know?"

Mika shook her head. "He went back to Britain. When I called him he said it wasn't his and hung up. But it could only be his, Touma. I haven't been with anyone else."

Touma sighed and looked down at beige carpet. If it was one thing he hated more than being beaten in an argument, it was being caught not knowing something. Not only did it show weakness, but it frustrated him to no end. "So why are you telling me?" he asked at last.

Mika also averted her gaze to the floor. "I couldn't think of anyone else to tell. And I thought you might know a solution."

Touma stood up and walked over to his large window. It had started to snow again, if only lightly. When he was younger he had loved snow. Now he was fairly indifferent toward it, as he now was toward things that had once made him happy. In order to keep a tight lid on the "bad" emotions, he had also had to sacrifice the "good", something he knew saddened Ryuuichi.

"I don't know what to do, Mika-san," he confessed. "And really, I'm not sure why I am so concerned. You left me, not the other way around. True, our relationship was falling apart, but you waited until just before our children were born to tell me that. I know we agreed to at least be civil, if for the sake of the twins, but what you are asking is more than I am prepared to give. Financially you have everything you need. All I can tell you is to hire a nanny and figure it out from there."

Mika gasped, then rose from the couch with an indignant air. "I'm sorry for wasting your time," she said angrily, before turning and leaving the room, the oak doors closing behind her with a resounding "thud". Touma sighed and walked back over toward his paperwork, but changed his mind and walked over to the minibar built next to one of the couch, making himself a scotch on the rocks. While his mind was telling him he had done the right thing, something else was nagging him about his harshness. A part of him he thought he had stifled years ago.

"A damn good time to find out I still have a conscience," he muttered, as if talking to the nagging voice within him. He then tossed back his drink in a single swallow.

Amai was sitting on the couch, reading a book she had found on a shelf in Yuki's office when she had sat in there waiting for her brother to leave his "room", when Yuki and Shuichi came home. And neither looked very pleased.

"How did it go?" Amai asked half-heatedly, too engrossed in the book to notice the less-than-amused expressions on the faces of her uncle and his lover.

Yuki didn't say a word as he retreated to his office. Shuichi sighed and threw himself into Yuki's chair. "Don't ask," he muttered.

Amai looked up from the book and raised an eyebrow over her reading glasses. "Not well, I take it?"

"That's an understatement," Shuichi confirmed, kicking off his shoes (though he should have removed them when he entered the house) and putting the chair in a reclining position.

Amai sat the book aside, making sure she didn't lose her page, and removed her reading glasses. "What happened?"

Shuichi sighed deeply. "Well, we WERE having a pleasant dinner. Then your mother- no disrespect intended- came over and demanded to know why we weren't taking care of her son since we took him from her. I told her that we needed a break and he was being watched, and then she started arguing with Yuki over Tokui and when I tried to step in Yuki started in on ME, saying I couldn't talk to his sister that way. And then she left and we left and we haven't spoken to each other since."

Amai shrugged. "Kaasan is acting weird lately, anyway. At first I thought it was about Tokui, but I think it's something else. When I did her chart this morning, Venus was in the twelfth house. Venus symbolizes love and fertility, and the position means she's keeping a secret. So I think someone broke up with her and she's taking it out on everyone else. It wouldn't be the first time."

Shuichi shook his head. "Did any of your charts happen to say how I can make Yuki talk to me again?"

Amai almost started glowing at the invitation to talk about astrology. "Actually, when I did your chart and Eiri-ojisan's chart, both said that while you're under the sign of Scorpio you won't get along at all. However, at the end of this month when Scorpio ends and Sagittarius begins, then things should return to normal. You see, there's a weird and rare pattern going on right now. Virgo and Scorpio are appearing in the same houses, which is highly unusual for two signs that are so close to each other. But this weird thing is driving Aries and Pisces- which are next to each other- further apart. But after this thing ends then you should be back together."

"Thanks, but how does that help me NOW? By the end of the month he could have me kicked out of the apartment and living with Hiro."

Amai sighed and seemed to give this deep thought. "All right. Speaking as someone who knows you two and not just an astrologer, I must say that it is VERY rare for two signs as incompatible as yours' are to stay together for as long as you two have. If it was going to fall apart, logically it should have fallen apart long ago. That also means that you've weathered some pretty tough situations in the past, probably worse than this one. So while the astrologer and cynic in me both say you two won't last, deep down in my heart I know you two love each other far too much for a little argument or even the stars to break you up."

Shuichi smiled brightly. "You really think so?"

Amai nodded. "Yeah, I do. But don't tell Tousan that I have a case of incompatible signs working. I'm still trying to get him and Sakano-san to realize it'll never work."

Shuichi laughed a little. "On the off chance I see your father, I doubt astrology will be what we discuss. So how was Tokui today?"

It was Amai's turn to wear a "don't ask" expression, but she answered him anyway. "The stars weren't on my side today. I accidentally hurt his feelings and we had a fight. He hasn't left his room since. I heard him crying to a while, but after it stopped I couldn't get the door open to check on him. I was hoping Eiri-ojisan could coax him out, since he trusts him."

Shuichi shrugged. "You told me that Leo and Virgo weren't compatible. But you and your brother have been together almost as long as Yuki and me." He chuckled a little at that remark, but noticing Amai wasn't amused he stopped. "Well, you've always gotten along great. So I think this will eventually blow over. You already know you hurt his feelings. Apologize to him. And don't EVER tell Hiro I've started talking and thinking like him, all right?"

Amai did laugh at that. "All right. It's a deal."

Shuichi stood up and walked by Amai. "That's good. If Yuki won't talk to me about us, maybe he'll talk to me about Tokui. I'll tell him and see if he can get him to come out so you can apologize."

Amai sighed and prepared to swallow her pride. Her fault or not, she hated to apologize...

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up," Quon Yue confessed, looking for a place to put out his cigarette. He finally opened the window of the empty rehearsal room a crack and threw the still-smoldering cigarette out. He tried to wave the smoke out of the room as well, but it was too late: Tokui had reached for his inhaler and was taking in deep breaths of medicine between coughs.

When Tokui finally managed to quell what had threatened to become an athsma attack, he put his inhaler away and looked shyly at his feet. Though he felt he could trust Quon Yue, the older boy still intimidated him with his aura of confidence and defiance. "I have to meet with my uncle's psychiatrist on Tuesdays and Wednesdays," he explained. "The only reason I came here today was Eiri-ojisan had to meet with his publisher and Shindou-san was working late."

"You're lucky," Quon Yue announced. "Shindou-san is the most wonderful man alive, and Yuki Eiri is hot as hell. And you look like him to boot. You don't find coloring like that around here much. Not that I'm one to talk..."

Tokui had expected a comment about him seeing a psychiatrist, but as if the expected comments never being spoken weren't enough of a shock, the fact that he had actually been called "lucky" for the first time in his life did. His first reaction was to argue with Quon Yue, but something told him that Quon Yue knew the difference between good luck and bad luck quite well and was a good judge of the two.

Sensing that Tokui had been taken off-guard by his remark, Quon Yue muttered a swear in Chinese under his breath and decided to change to topic. Hiro's words had made him feel he should tread lightly with this boy, lest he run off screaming into the night. "You know, when I was a kid I saw a shrink a few times," he said conversationally, observing his blue-painted fingernails.

Not only was this the first day he had actually engaged Tokui in a real conversation, it had been the first day the blonde boy had seen him in drag. His hair was perfectly separated into two different colored braids, and he was wearing a loose black tank-top and black leather mini-skirt, as well as black high-heeled ankleboots. His lipstick was the same icy blue shade as his fingernails, though his eyes were dark with the nonchalant expression he currently wore.

Tokui didn't comment on Quon Yue's revelation, but since he didn't act angry or leave the room the latter assumed it was all right to proceed. "The shrinks all said the same thing: extremely bright. Hiding something. Gender identity issues. Imagine, me, with issues identifying my gender!" Quon Yue laughed at the last remark, but the laughter was bordering on hysterical, and caused Tokui to back up a step. Noticing this, the elder cleared his throat and continued. "Fact of the matter is I'm not a boy who wants to be a girl. I am neither male nor female, and I happened to be born as one. But if society expects me to act like either one or the other, they have another thing coming."

Tokui nodded and stared at the floor. He wasn't used to talking very much, and he really had nothing to contribute to this line of conversation.

"So, something eating you?" Quon Yue asked as offhandedly as possible.

Tokui's large gold eyes shot up to face his friend. Without meaning to (or, perhaps, knowing exactly what he was doing) Quon Yue had read him like a book. "I...uh...um...when's your birthday?" he finally choked out. He felt a blush climbing into his cheeks, and he turned around to hide it from the other.

"That's what's been eating you?" Quon Yue asked skeptically, though his voice had a good natured tone that softened his words. "That, or you are trying to completely avoid my question. Or maybe, perhaps, the two things are somehow connected but you have a way of making really complex connections. Either way you don't have to worry about my birthday for a while. It's June 6."

Tokui tried desperately to recall all of his sister's ramblings about astrology to place the date with a sign, but came up with nothing. "Do-do you know your sign?"

"Isn't it obvious? I turned it into my image," Quon Yue said, gesturing to himself. When he noticed Tokui's blank look, he further clarified. "Gemini. I am supposed to be a physical representation of Gemini."

Tokui gasped, then blushed again and turned away. Quon Yue raised an eyebrow, his eyes turning sky blue.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked, genuine concern tingeing his voice.

Tokui shook his head furiously. "My sister told me yesterday that I would become friends with a Gemini. She said that without knowing your sign."

"Your sister likes astrology?" Quon Yue asked. Then he shrugged. "So do I. I'm more into astronomy, though."

This intrigued Tokui. He never would have pictured Quon Yue as the kind who enjoyed any sciences, let alone a form that required much patience. "But how can you see the stars in Tokyo?"

A strange half-smile crossed Quon Yue's face as his expression softened and looked almost sad. "In my neighborhood the lights don't always work, so I can stand in my special spot. It's perfect for stargazing." His eyes took on their wistful dark blue color. "When I was younger, the stars were all mine. They were the only thing I had, and the only place in Tokyo you could see them was in my district, and the people there didn't take advantage of that. Only I did. So I used to turn to the stars for everything. For comfort. For protection. With astrology I could make them tell me whatever I wanted to know."

Tokui swallowed. He hadn't expected to get such intimate details of the young man's past from such a simple question. And not he wondered if he was obligated to talk about himself.

Tokui swallowed hard. "Closets," he said, slowly, simply, the one word speaking volumes. "They are small, but warm and safe. And always empty, overlooked. When I was five I was in the hospital, and I spent a lot of time out in the open. Sick kids would bug me, nurses and doctors were always coming in to poke me and prod me and I just wanted to be alone. So I found a supply closet. And..."

He looked up to see Quon Yue's eyes the pleasant sky blue that reminded him of the summer sky, coaxing him to continue. So he swallowed hard and resumed the story. "There was already a kid in there. He had cancer, and he was my first friend ever. He was a little older than me, but he told me that when you find a place where no one will ever find you, where no one can see you or touch you, then it's like being alone in your own little world, where nothing is real except what you want to be real." Tears were sliding down Tokui's cheeks, and Quon Yue handed him a box of tissues that was resting in the center of the table. He hesitantly took one and wiped his eyes. "He died," he announced finally. "Three days before I checked out. If he had waited...if I'd gotten better sooner...I could have left with him being alive, and in my world he'd always be alive. But in the real world and in my world he was gone forever. So I stopped making real world friends. I made up friends in my world, in the dark where the real world couldn't touch me. Then I started to write what my friends said and did down into stories. But my sister...she means well, but she belongs in this world. In the real world. In the center of it. She doesn't belong in my world yet she keeps forcing herself in. She's a trespasser! She doesn't belong in my world!"

Quon Yue's eyes had widened, though they were still the pleasant color that made Tokui want to bare his soul to him. Hesitantly, Quon Yue reached out and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's slight frame, trying to quell his sobbing.

"No one else understands," Tokui whispered. "No one understands that I have my world, just like the stars are yours. They think we're crazy. But the stars...they ARE yours. And I DO have my own world, and the closets are the doorways to them. But only we can understand that. The stars are YOURS, and the Closet World is MINE..."

Quon Yue held Tokui silently for a long time. He'd never given or received comfort before, but something told him silence was the best thing at the moment while the boy finished crying. Finally the sobbing ceased, and Tokui looked up at Quon Yue with tear-rimmed eyes. "You belong in the Closet World," he whispered. "Just like he did. Just like I do. In the Closet World no one judges you based on how you dress or act or think, or cares if you are healthy or sick or plagued by nightmares that you don't understand because they don't belong to you. No one thinks you are crazy. In the Closet World, when you say the stars are yours, then they are and everyone respects that. The stars are yours."

Quon Yue wanted to tell him that didn't like closets and never would, but the revelation was so utterly profound that he couldn't bring himself to tell him that. Tokui had taken darkness, overlooked by everyone else, and turned it into a Utopia for the outcasts of the "real world", and had only been punished and shunned for doing so.

Somehow, when he saw Tokui and his Closet World, all he could think of was an eleven year old boy standing on a roof, trying to count the stars, and when people asked him why he would answer "to make sure they were all there". People had called him crazy, too. Called that poor, lonely boy crazy for wanting to make sure all of his friends were present and accounted for. For wanting to make sure his prized possessions were all in order people at shunned him and scolded him and told him he needed help.

"If you can share Closet World," Quon Yue whispered hoarsely, "then I can share the stars."

End of Chapter Eight

Notes About the Houses-

(Note: This is according to Astrology for Dummies by Rae Orion. Great book for learning to bare essentials of astrology. I have the pocket edition. I would just paraphrase, but you can't get simpler or more concise than this, hence I am using these descriptions.)

First House- Your appearance and apparent disposition.

Second House- Money, possessions, values.

Third House- Communication, short journeys, brothers and sisters.

Fourth House- Home, roots, one parent, circumstances at the end of life.

Fifth House- Romance, children, creativity.

Sixth House- Work and health.

Seventh House- Marriage and other partnerships.

Eighth House- Sex, death, regeneration, other people's money.

Ninth House- Higher education, long journeys, religion, philosophy.

Tenth House- Career, status, reputation, the other parent.

Eleventh House- Friends and aspirations.

Twelfth House- Seclusion and secrets.

Also, sorry this took so long, but I've been unbelievably busy as of late. Hopefully I can get on a roll again, and this long chapter makes up for it. It's the longest chapter of this fic that I've written so far.


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